Ridgeon.  Thats a devilishly difficult question, Paddy.  The pictures are so agreeable, and the good people so infernally disagreeable and mischievous, that I really cant undertake to say offhand which I should prefer to do without.

Sir Patrick.  Come come! none of your cleverness with me:  I’m too old for it.  Blenkinsop isnt that sort of good man; and you know it.

Ridgeon.  It would be simpler if Blenkinsop could paint Dubedat’s pictures.

Sir Patrick.  It would be simpler still if Dubedat had some of Blenkinsop’s honesty.  The world isnt going to be made simple for you, my lad:  you must take it as it is.  Youve to hold the scales between Blenkinsop and Dubedat.  Hold them fairly.

Ridgeon.  Well, I’ll be as fair as I can.  I’ll put into one scale all the pounds Dubedat has borrowed, and into the other all the half-crowns that Blenkinsop hasnt borrowed.

Sir Patrick.  And youll take out of Dubedat’s scale all the faith he has destroyed and the honor he has lost, and youll put into Blenkinsop’s scale all the faith he has justified and the honor he has created.

Ridgeon.  Come come, Paddy! none of your claptrap with me:  I’m too sceptical for it.  I’m not at all convinced that the world wouldnt be a better world if everybody behaved as Dubedat does than it is now that everybody behaves as Blenkinsop does.

Sir Patrick.  Then why dont you behave as Dubedat does?

Ridgeon.  Ah, that beats me.  Thats the experimental test.  Still, it’s a dilemma.  It’s a dilemma.  You see theres a complication we havnt mentioned.

Sir Patrick.  Whats that?

Ridgeon.  Well, if I let Blenkinsop die, at least nobody can say I did it because I wanted to marry his widow.

Sir Patrick.  Eh?  Whats that?

Ridgeon.  Now if I let Dubedat die, I’ll marry his widow.

Sir Patrick.  Perhaps she wont have you, you know.

Ridgeon [with a self-assured shake of the head] I’ve a pretty good flair for that sort of thing.  I know when a woman is interested in me.  She is.

Sir Patrick.  Well, sometimes a man knows best; and sometimes he knows worst.  Youd much better cure them both.

Ridgeon.  I cant.  I’m at my limit.  I can squeeze in one more case, but not two.  I must choose.

Sir Patrick.  Well, you must choose as if she didnt exist:  thats clear.

Ridgeon.  Is that clear to you?  Mind:  it’s not clear to me.  She troubles my judgment.

Sir Patrick.  To me, it’s a plain choice between a man and a lot of pictures.

Ridgeon.  It’s easier to replace a dead man than a good picture.

Sir Patrick.  Colly:  when you live in an age that runs to pictures and statues and plays and brass bands because its men and women are not good enough to comfort its poor aching soul, you should thank Providence that you belong to a profession which is a high and great profession because its business is to heal and mend men and women.