SIR PATRICK. Night [half a grunt].
MRS DUBEDAT. Good-night, Sir Patrick.
SIR PATRICK. Cover yourself well up. Dont think your lungs are made of iron because theyre better than his. Good-night.
MRS DUBEDAT. Thank you. Thank you. Nothing hurts me. Good-night.
Louis goes out through the hotel without noticing Schutzmacher. Mrs Dubedat hesitates, then bows to him. Schutzmacher rises and bows formally, German fashion. She goes out, attended by Ridgeon. The rest resume their seats, ruminating or smoking quietly.
B. B. [harmoniously] Dee-lightful couple! Charming woman! Gifted lad! Remarkable talent! Graceful outlines! Perfect evening! Great success! Interesting case! Glorious night! Exquisite scenery! Capital dinner! Stimulating conversation! Restful outing! Good wine! Happy ending! Touching gratitude! Lucky Ridgeon—
RIDGEON [returning] Whats that? Calling me, B. B.? [He goes back to his seat next Sir Patrick].
B. B. No, no. Only congratulating you on a most successful evening! Enchanting woman! Thorough breeding! Gentle nature! Refined—
Blenkinsop comes from the hotel and takes the empty chair next Ridgeon.
BLENKINSOP. I’m so sorry to have left you like this, Ridgeon; but it was a telephone message from the police. Theyve found half a milkman at our level crossing with a prescription of mine in its pocket. Wheres Mr Dubedat?