Louis.  Poor old B. B.

B. B. [affected to tears, turns away and whispers to Sir Patrick]
Poor fellow!  Brain going.

Louis.  Sir Patrick’s there, isn’t he?

Sir Patrick.  Yes, yes.  I’m here.

Louis.  Sit down, wont you?  It’s a shame to keep you standing about.

Sir Patrick.  Yes, Yes.  Thank you.  All right.

Louis.  Jennifer.

Mrs Dubedat.  Yes, dear.

Louis [with a strange look of delight] Do you remember the burning bush?

Mrs Dubedat.  Yes, Yes.  Oh, my dear, how it strains my heart to remember it now!

Louis.  Does it?  It fills me with joy.  Tell them about it.

Mrs Dubedat.  It was nothing—­only that once in my old Cornish home we lit the first fire of the winter; and when we looked through the window we saw the flames dancing in a bush in the garden.

Louis.  Such a color!  Garnet color.  Waving like silk.  Liquid lovely flame flowing up through the bay leaves, and not burning them.  Well, I shall be a flame like that.  I’m sorry to disappoint the poor little worms; but the last of me shall be the flame in the burning bush.  Whenever you see the flame, Jennifer, that will be me.  Promise me that I shall be burnt.

Mrs Dubedat.  Oh, if I might be with you, Louis!

Louis.  No:  you must always be in the garden when the bush flames. 
You are my hold on the world:  you are my immortality.  Promise.

Mrs Dubedat.  I’m listening.  I shall not forget.  You know that I promise.

Louis.  Well, thats about all; except that you are to hang my pictures at the one-man show.  I can trust your eye.  You wont let anyone else touch them.

Mrs Dubedat.  You can trust me.

Louis.  Then theres nothing more to worry about, is there?  Give me some more of that milk.  I’m fearfully tired; but if I stop talking I shant begin again. [Sir Ralph gives him a drink.  He takes it and looks up quaintly].  I say, B. B., do you think anything would stop you talking?

B. B. [almost unmanned] He confuses me with you, Paddy.  Poor fellow!  Poor fellow!

Louis [musing] I used to be awfully afraid of death; but now it’s come I have no fear; and I’m perfectly happy.  Jennifer.

Mrs Dubedat.  Yes, dear?

Louis.  I’ll tell you a secret.  I used to think that our marriage was all an affectation, and that I’d break loose and run away some day.  But now that I’m going to be broken loose whether I like it or not, I’m perfectly fond of you, and perfectly satisfied because I’m going to live as part of you and not as my troublesome self.

Mrs Dubedat [heartbroken] Stay with me, Louis.  Oh, dont leave me, dearest.