Conjurer. [Looking at him steadily.] Do you mean he is going mad?
Doctor. [Rather taken aback for the first time.] Really, you ask me an unfair question. I could not explain the fine shades of these things to a layman. And even if—if what you suggest were so, I should have to regard it as a professional secret.
Conjurer. [Still looking at him.] And don't you think you ask me a rather unfair question, Dr. Grimthorpe? If yours is a professional secret, is not mine a professional secret too? If you may hide truth from the world, why may not I? You don't tell your tricks. I don't tell my tricks.
Doctor. [With some heat.] Ours are not tricks.
Conjurer. [Reflectively.] Ah, no one can be sure of that till the tricks are told.
Doctor. But the public can see a doctor's cures as plain as....
Conjurer. Yes. As plain as they saw the red lamp over his door this evening.
Doctor. [After a pause.] Your secret, of course, would be strictly kept by every one involved.
Conjurer. Oh, of course. People in delirium always keep secrets strictly.
Doctor. No one sees the patient but his sister and myself.