Phil. Mayn’t I know what it is?
Sir P. Since it’s out of the question, it’s no use discussing it. You haven’t answered me. Have you made your will?
Phil. Yes—long ago. It was a very simple matter. Mildred is provided for; so I have left everything to my wife, absolutely. (Sir Peter rises and rings the bell, below fire, crossing in front)
Phil. Do you want anything?
Sir P. Yes. The name and address of your solicitor.
Phil. Old Merivale, of High Street! why? (enter Johnson, R.U.D., she comes on to R.C.)
Sir P. (crosses to C.) Mr. Selwyn’s compliments to Mr. Merivale, Solicitor, High Street, and will he kindly come here at once? (exit Johnson R.U.D. Sir Peter returns to R. of table)
Phil. What for?
Sir P. To draw your will.
Phil. But I tell you, I’ve made it.