BUTLER. Yes, sir.
(Exit Butler.)
JABEZ. What's the matter with Clavering? He doesn't often condescend to leave his precious research work in the evenings. (Rosie shrugs her shoulders contemptuously. Enter Butler.)
BUTLER (Announcing). Dr. Clavering.
(Enter Clavering. Exit Butler. Clavering is a young doctor with keen clever face, clean-shaven, with a general air of self-reliance. He is a practical man of a fairs whose business happens to be doctoring.)
CLAVERING. Good evening, Mr. Thompson.
JABEZ (Rising). Good evening, Dr. Clavering. (They shake hands, and Jabez, turning his chair sits sideways to the table.)
CLAV. Good evening, Miss Thompson. (Rosie murmurs and bows coldly.)
JABEZ. Well, what can I do for you, doctor? Sit down.
CLAV. (Sits on sofa l.) The fact is—it's rather a liberty—I hope you won't mind.