TULLY. Oh! O-oh!
(TULLY runs off R.)
(TULLY re-enters with pyjamas, puts them on back of arm-chair, looks round room, hops up to window L., draws curtains, hops along to window R., draws curtains—goes to Standard lamp above door L., switches off light—then over to arm-chair—he puts on pyjama jacket over clothes, picks up pyjama trousers, holds them against himself—then looks towards doors R. and L., as if some one might be looking through keyholes, goes to fireplace and brings small firescreen to down to R. of arm-chair—puts on trousers, jumps himself into them, fastens them up, takes screen back to fireplace, comes back to arm-chair, wraps blanket round him, lies back in arm-chair and groans loudly. PAMELA enters and crosses to TULLY.)
PAMELA. I’ve told him you’re not awake. Pretend to be asleep. (Switches on lights and exit L. Re-enters almost immediately holding door open.) Oh, come in, doctor. (Then crossing to TULLY.)
(DR. BIGLAND enters, hat and bag in hand. He is a fairly corpulent man of fifty, and blunt in manner—places hat and bag on small table down L.)
This is our patient, doctor. (Gets to back of arm-chair.)
DOCTOR. Ahem! Wouldn’t he be better in bed?
PAMELA. That is what I try to impress on him, but he says he feels the pain less sitting up. And you can’t persuade him; his mind seems thoroughly unhinged since the accident.
(DOCTOR crosses over to TULLY, puts head to TULLY’S heart. TULLY makes a face. DOCTOR raises his head, almost catching TULLY making a face.)