Mrs. D. Ah, here’s the doctor! (dozes off again)
Dr. Home! sweet home! The very phrase is fraught with poetry. One seems to stand before the glowing fire, to hear the purring cat, the hissing urn, whilst from without a quaint but welcome cry heralds the advent of the evening milk on its accustomed round. If you are wishful to pursue the subject——
Lucy. (crosses in front to staircase) Excuse me, I must look after Sir Humphrey. (Exit, L.)
Dr. (turning to Ned) I would refer you to——
Ned. Thank you very much, but I’ve some letters to answer. (Exit, R.)
Dr. (turning to Tom) To the tenth discourse——
Tom. The light’s so bad here, I must go outside. (Exit through window, C.)
Dr. (turning to Mrs. Dozey) In my fifth volume.
Sir H. (top of stairs, L.) See to it at once.
Dr. Home I divide into three sections. First—— (Mrs. Dozey snores, Dr. Dozey stops and wakes her.)