Somers. Well, did Hirst win his bet? (Seeing Hirst on floor, he realizes the matter). My God, you didn't—I told him not to. I told him not to!! I told him—(falls fainting into arms of George.)
Curtain.
PICTURE.
| Beldon | George | ||
| Leek (kneeling) | Hirst (seated on floor) | Malcolm (kneeling) | Somers (at door L.) |
Note. When played at The Haymarket the piece finished with a different ending as given below. Mr. Cyril Maude fearing the above tragic termination would be too serious.
Somers enters with lighted candle, and exclaims very brightly.
Somers. Well, did Hirst win his bet?
Slight pause.
Hirst (suddenly sitting up). Yes. (Turning to Dr. Leek.) You're a damned bad shot, Doctor. (Then to Malcolm.) And I'll trouble you for that sovereign.