Bea. I understood you——
Sir P. You misunderstood me.
Bea. At any rate we’d better leave you with your patient. Come, Miss Derwent—(bows—Sir Peter bows. Exit with Kate into grounds, C. to R.) (Sir Peter turns up stage and watches them off, then comes down, moves chair R. of sofa towards Philip, and sits)
Sir P. Well, what’s the matter with you?
Phil. Really, Sir Peter! That’s what I want you to tell me.
Sir P. You have a high opinion of the medical profession. Do you suppose we can tell you anything, if you don’t tell us first?
Phil. I have always supposed so.
Sir P. Error, sir. You tell us everything we tell you. The only difference is, you tell us in English, and we tell you in Latin. You take a fee out of your pocket; we put one in ours.
Phil. Well, doctor, I can’t tell you what’s the matter with me. I should very much like to know.