Walpole.  I dont mind his disregarding the usual arrangements.  Confound the usual arrangements!  To a man of science theyre beneath contempt both as to money and women.  What I mind is his disregarding everything except his own pocket and his own fancy.  He didn’t disregard the usual arrangements when they paid him.  Did he give us his pictures for nothing?  Do you suppose he’d have hesitated to blackmail me if I’d compromised myself with his wife?  Not he.

Sir Patrick.  Dont waste your time wrangling over him.  A blackguard’s a blackguard; an honest man’s an honest man; and neither of them will ever be at a loss for a religion or a morality to prove that their ways are the right ways.  It’s the same with nations, the same with professions, the same all the world over and always will be.

B. B. Ah, well, perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.  Still, de mortuis nil nisi bonum.  He died extremely well, remarkably well.  He has set us an example:  let us endeavor to follow it rather than harp on the weaknesses that have perished with him.  I think it is Shakespear who says that the good that most men do lives after them:  the evil lies interred with their bones.  Yes:  interred with their bones.  Believe me, Paddy, we are all mortal.  It is the common lot, Ridgeon.  Say what you will, Walpole, Nature’s debt must be paid.  If tis not to-day, twill be to-morrow.

     To-morrow and to-morrow and to-morrow
     After life’s fitful fever they sleep well
     And like this insubstantial bourne from which
     No traveller returns
     Leave not a wrack behind.

Walpole is about to speak, but B. B., suddenly and vehemently proceeding, extinguishes him.

     Out, out, brief candle: 
     For nothing canst thou to damnation add
     The readiness is all.

Walpole [gently; for B. B.’s feeling, absurdly expressed as it is, is too sincere and humane to be ridiculed] Yes, B. B. Death makes people go on like that.  I dont know why it should; but it does.  By the way, what are we going to do?  Ought we to clear out; or had we better wait and see whether Mrs Dubedat will come back?

Sir Patrick.  I think we’d better go.  We can tell the charwoman what to do.

They take their hats and go to the door.

Mrs Dubedat [coming from the inner door wonderfully and beautifully dressed, and radiant, carrying a great piece of purple silk, handsomely embroidered, over her arm] I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting.

Sir Patrick }  [amazed, all   { Dont mention it, madam. 
B.B.        }   together      { Not at all, not at all. 
Ridgeon     }   in a confused { By no means. 
Walpole     }   murmur]       { It doesnt matter in the least.

Mrs. Dubedat [coming to them] I felt that I must shake hands with his friends once before we part to-day.  We have shared together a great privilege and a great happiness.  I dont think we can ever think of ourselves ordinary people again.  We have had a wonderful experience; and that gives us a common faith, a common ideal, that nobody else can quite have.  Life will always be beautiful to us:  death will always be beautiful to us.  May we shake hands on that?