PETER. Well, now, that's a regular sticker. It's bothered me considerably since I crossed over.
CATHERINE. What do you mean, Doctor?
DR. MACPHERSON. The question every man wants the answer to: what's to become of me—me—my work? Am I going to be a bone setter in the next life and he a tulip man?… I wonder.
PETER. Andrew, I've asked everybody—Tom, Dick and Harry. One spirit told me that sometimes our work does go on; but he was an awful liar—you knew we don't drop our earth habits at once. He said that a genius is simply a fellow who's been there before in some other world and knows his business. Now then: [Confidentially preparing to open an argument— sitting in his old seat at the table, as in the first act.] it stands to reason, Andrew, doesn't it? What chance has the beginner compared with a fellow who knew his business before he was born?
DR. MACPHERSON. [Unconsciously grasping the thought.] I believe it is possible to have more than one chance at our work.
PETER. There … you caught that…. Why can't you take my message to
Catherine?
DR. MACPHERSON. [Rising to get his shawl—gruffly.] Thought over what I told you concerning this marriage? Not too late to back out.
PETER. He's beginning to take the message.
CATHERINE. Everything's arranged: I shall be married as Uncle Peter wished. I sha'n't change my mind.
DR. MACPHERSON. H'm! [Picks up his shawl.