LOUIS. I’ll sign it for you with pleasure. [He signs and hands it to Ridgeon]. Ive just been making a little note of the river to-night: it will work up into something good [he shews a pocket sketch-book]. I think I’ll call it the Silver Danube.
B. B. Ah, charming, charming.
WALPOLE. Very sweet. Youre a nailer at pastel.
Louis coughs, first out of modesty, then from tuberculosis.
SIR PATRICK. Now then, Mr Dubedat: youve had enough of the night air. Take him home, maam.
MRS DUBEDAT. Yes. Come, Louis.
RIDGEON. Never fear. Never mind. I’ll make that cough all right.
B. B. We will stimulate the phagocytes. [With tender effusion, shaking her hand] Good-night, Mrs Dubedat. Good-night. Good-night.
WALPOLE. If the phagocytes fail, come to me. I’ll put you right.
LOUIS. Good-night, Sir Patrick. Happy to have met you.