Bellows
Clean mad!
Philo (crosses, and looks down on the wreck of his machine)
Silent ... but I have heard! The divine whisper has reached me!
Bellows
That's still on his mind, you see. Better leave him up here till morning. Seymour and I will fix up the papers and take him off to-morrow. I'm sorry, Philo, but you know it's for the best.
Philo
I'll make no trouble. Don't worry, doctor.
Bellows (to himself, going)