Wellwyn. Pure! Oh! pure! Professor. Awfully human.
Calway. [With a smile of knowledge.] Quite! And—er——
Ann. [Breaking in.] Before he comes, there’s another——
Bertley. [Blandly.] Yes, when you came in, we were discussing what should be done with a man who drinks rum—[Calway pauses in the act of drinking]—that doesn’t belong to him.
Calway. Really! Dipsomaniac?
Bertley. Well—perhaps you could tell us—drink certainly changing thine to mine. The Professor could see him, Wellwyn?
Ann. [Rising.] Yes, do come and look at him,
Professor Calway.
He’s in there.
[She points towards
the model’s room. Calway smiles
deprecatingly.]
Ann. No, really; we needn’t open the door. You can see him through the glass. He’s more than half——
Calway. Well, I hardly——
Ann. Oh! Do! Come on, Professor Calway! We must know what to do with him. [Calway rises.] You can stand on a chair. It’s all science.
[She draws Calway to the model’s room, which is lighted by a glass panel in the top of the high door. Canon Bertley also rises and stands watching. Wellwyn hovers, torn between respect for science and dislike of espionage.]
Ann. [Drawing up a chair.] Come on!
Calway. Do you seriously wish me to?
Ann. Rather! It’s quite safe; he can’t see you.
Calway. But he might come out.
[Ann puts her back
against the door. Calway mounts the chair
dubiously, and raises
his head cautiously, bending it more and
more downwards.]
Ann. Well?
Calway. He appears to be—–sitting on the floor.
Wellwyn. Yes, that’s all right!
[Bertley covers his lips.]
Calway. [To Ann—descending.] By the look of his face, as far as one can see it, I should say there was a leaning towards mania. I know the treatment.
[There come three loud
knocks on the door. Wellwyn and Ann
exchange a glance of
consternation.]
Ann. Who’s that?
Wellwyn. It sounds like Sir Thomas.
Calway. Sir Thomas Hoxton?
Wellwyn. [Nodding.] Awfully sorry, Professor. You see, we——
Calway. Not at all. Only, I must decline to be involved in argument with him, please.
Bertley. He has experience. We might get his opinion, don’t you think?
Calway. On a point of reform? A J.P.!
Bertley. [Deprecating.] My dear Sir—we needn’t take it.