Julie, after her experience of the night before had recovered her physical faculties, but her emotional condition was still skittish. A wife, summoned to identify her dying husband, rather sets her mind on a scene of tearful sighs and murmured remembrances, with perhaps a touch of violin music in the background. When she finds her waning spouse looking perfectly alive and perky and in close proximity to a dangerous looking redhead, her bubble has a tendency to burst with a considerable bang.
"Marc Pillsworth!" Julie screamed. "Who is that woman!" And raising her handbag aloft she proceeded forward with mayhem unmistakably number one on her agenda.
Groaning, Marc rose from his chair. "She's going to kill me!"
Meanwhile, the doctors had also caught sight of Marc.
"There he is!" the first doctor said. "We'd better close in on him fast."
"It's amazing," the second doctor mused. "The man must be living sheerly on the energy of hysteria. He should have been dead hours ago." He turned to the third doctor. "Do you have the chloroform ready?"
The doctor nodded and exhibited a can and a large sponge. "Wait till the Medical Association hears about this," he said excitedly. "They'll never believe it!"
Thus armed, the men in white pressed forward close in the wake of Julie.
Marc retreated in confusion toward the bench. "They're all after me!" he cried. "I can't stand much more of this. If just one more character tries to kill me...!"