Smith. [Crying out suddenly in the dark.] In God's name, go!
Doctor. [Jumping up rather in a tremble.] Really, sir, I am not used to being spoken to....
Smith. It was not you whom I told to go.
Doctor. No. [Pause.] But I think I will go. This room is simply horrible.
[He marches towards the door.
Duke. [Jumping up and bustling about, altering cards, papers, etc., on tables.] Room horrible? Room horrible? No, no, no. [Begins to run quicker round the room, flapping his hands like fins.] Only a little crowded. A little crowded. And I don't seem to know all the people. We can't like everybody. These large at-homes....
[Tumbles on to a chair.
Conjurer. [Reappearing at the garden doors.] Go back to hell from which I called you. It is the last order I shall give.
Doctor. [Rising rather shakily.] And what are you going to do?
Conjurer. I am going to tell that poor little lad a lie. I have found in the garden what he did not find in the garden. I have managed to think of a natural explanation of that trick.