Ridgeon [returning] Whats that?  Calling me, B. B.? [He goes back to his seat next Sir Patrick].

B. B. No, no.  Only congratulating you on a most successful evening!  Enchanting woman!  Thorough breeding!  Gentle nature!  Refined—­

Blenkinsop comes from the hotel and takes the empty chair next Ridgeon.

Blenkinsop.  I’m so sorry to have left you like this, Ridgeon; but it was a telephone message from the police.  Theyve found half a milkman at our level crossing with a prescription of mine in its pocket.  Wheres Mr Dubedat?

Ridgeon.  Gone.

Blenkinsop [rising, very pale] Gone!

Ridgeon.  Just this moment—­

Blenkinsop.  Perhaps I could overtake him—­[he rushes into the hotel].

Walpole [calling after him] He’s in the motor, man, miles off. 
You can—­[giving it up].  No use.

Ridgeon.  Theyre really very nice people.  I confess I was afraid the husband would turn out an appalling bounder.  But he’s almost as charming in his way as she is in hers.  And theres no mistake about his being a genius.  It’s something to have got a case really worth saving.  Somebody else will have to go; but at all events it will be easy to find a worse man.

Sir Patrick.  How do you know?

Ridgeon.  Come now, Sir Paddy, no growling.  Have something more to drink.

Sir Patrick.  No, thank you.

Walpole.  Do you see anything wrong with Dubedat, B. B.?

B. B. Oh, a charming young fellow.  Besides, after all, what could be wrong with him?  Look at him.  What could be wrong with him?

Sir Patrick.  There are two things that can be wrong with any man.  One of them is a cheque.  The other is a woman.  Until you know that a man’s sound on these two points, you know nothing about him.

B. B. Ah, cynic, cynic!

Walpole.  He’s all right as to the cheque, for a while at all events.  He talked to me quite frankly before dinner as to the pressure of money difficulties on an artist.  He says he has no vices and is very economical, but that theres one extravagance he cant afford and yet cant resist; and that is dressing his wife prettily.  So I said, bang plump out, “Let me lend you twenty pounds, and pay me when your ship comes home.”  He was really very nice about it.  He took it like a man; and it was a pleasure to see how happy it made him, poor chap.

B. B. [who has listened to Walpole with growing perturbation] But—­but—­but—­when was this, may I ask?

Walpole.  When I joined you that time down by the river.

B. B. But, my dear Walpole, he had just borrowed ten pounds from me.

Walpole.  What!

Sir Patrick [grunts]!

B. B. [indulgently] Well, well, it was really hardly borrowing; for he said heaven only knew when he could pay me.  I couldnt refuse.  It appears that Mrs Dubedat has taken a sort of fancy to me—­