Enter Newsboy (shrilly piping).
Newsboy. “Earth!” “Universe!” Latest—8.30. All about the accident! Dr. Thorne killed instantly—Mrs. Fayth still breathin’—“Earth,” sir? Two cents, sir.
(Dr. Thorne clutches the newsboy by the arm, and would tear the paper from him. Dr. Thorne’s fingers grope over it—touch it. He tries several times to obtain it. The paper remains in the hands of the boy.)
Enter Brake, the broker.
(Dr. Thorne staggers against Brake, who is reading “The Universe.”)
[Exit the Suburban, consulting his watch.
Dr. Thorne (more gently; addresses the loafer). Jerry! Is that you, Jerry! Tell these gentlemen, will you, that I am Dr. Thorne? I should take it—kindly—of you, Jerry.
Loafer (stares; mutters). Divil a cint did he charrge me for ’t.
Dr. Thorne (addresses the broker). Oh, Brake! I am glad to see you! I couldn’t get down to save my Santa Ma. But that is of no consequence.... I’ve been hurt—an accident—and I am confused. I am suffering from hallucinations. They have got beyond my control. I wonder if you wouldn’t call a cab for me? I thought Dr. Gazell would take me home in his carriage,—but he didn’t seem to hear me when I spoke to him. If you’ll call a cab, I’ll get home—to my wife.
[Exeunt Dr. Gazell, Dr. Carver, and
Brake, without replying.