Louis.  We’re all going to die, arnt we?

Walpole.  We’re not all going to die in six months.

Louis.  How do you know?

This for B. B. is the last straw.  He completely loses his temper and begins to walk excitedly about.

B. B. Upon my soul, I will not stand this.  It is in questionable taste under any circumstances or in any company to harp on the subject of death; but it is a dastardly advantage to take of a medical man. [Thundering at Dubedat] I will not allow it, do you hear?

Louis.  Well, I didn’t begin it:  you chaps did.  It’s always the way with the inartistic professions:  when theyre beaten in argument they fall back on intimidation.  I never knew a lawyer who didnt threaten to put me in prison sooner or later.  I never knew a parson who didnt threaten me with damnation.  And now you threaten me with death.  With all your talk youve only one real trump in your hand, and thats Intimidation.  Well, I’m not a coward; so it’s no use with me.

B. B. [advancing upon him] I’ll tell you what you are, sir.  Youre a scoundrel.

Louis.  Oh, I don’t mind you calling me a scoundrel a bit.  It’s only a word:  a word that you dont know the meaning of.  What is a scoundrel?

B. B. You are a scoundrel, sir.

Louis.  Just so.  What is a scoundrel?  I am.  What am I?  A Scoundrel.  It’s just arguing in a circle.  And you imagine youre a man of science!

B. B. I—­I—­I—­I have a good mind to take you by the scruff of your neck, you infamous rascal, and give you a sound thrashing.

Louis.  I wish you would.  Youd pay me something handsome to keep it out of court afterwards. [B.  B., baffled, flings away from him with a snort].  Have you any more civilities to address to me in my own house?  I should like to get them over before my wife comes back. [He resumes his sketching].

Ridgeon.  My mind’s made up.  When the law breaks down, honest men must find a remedy for themselves.  I will not lift a finger to save this reptile.

B. B. That is the word I was trying to remember.  Reptile.

Walpole.  I cant help rather liking you, Dubedat.  But you certainly are a thoroughgoing specimen.

Sir Patrick.  You know our opinion of you now, at all events.

Louis [patiently putting down his pencil] Look here.  All this is no good.  You dont understand.  You imagine that I’m simply an ordinary criminal.

Walpole.  Not an ordinary one, Dubedat.  Do yourself justice.

Louis.  Well youre on the wrong tack altogether.  I’m not a criminal.  All your moralizings have no value for me.  I don’t believe in morality.  I’m a disciple of Bernard Shaw.

Sir Patrick [puzzled] Eh?

B.B. [waving his hand as if the subject was now disposed of]
Thats enough, I wish to hear no more.