Phil. Oh no, he went some time ago.
Bea. (quickly) Then have you made the will?
Phil. Not yet. (Sir Peter watches Beatrice closely) Merivale insists on making his own inquiries before taking any other steps in the matter. If Sir Peter’s information is confirmed, he will accept my instructions. I am to see him again at twelve o’clock to-morrow.
Bea. Twelve o’clock?
Sir P. Now you must rest. You’ve had a trying day (hand on Philip’s shoulder) (Philip rises and stands back to audience)
Bea. (Beatrice advances to Sir Peter) You needn’t trouble, doctor. I will go with Philip.
Sir P. Thank you—it is no trouble. Come, my boy. (Philip takes his R. arm, and they go up)
Phil. (up L.C.) How can I repay you for all your attention?
Sir P. By obeying me to the letter. Diet’s the great thing; and the less the better. Eat nothing—drink nothing.