Sir Patrick [shaking hands] Remember:  all letters had better be left to your solicitor.  Let him open everything and settle everything.  Thats the law, you know.

Mrs Dubedat.  Oh, thank you:  I didnt know. [Sir Patrick goes].

Walpole.  Good-bye.  I blame myself:  I should have insisted on operating. [He goes].

B.B.  I will send the proper people:  they will know it to do:  you shall have no trouble.  Good-bye, my dear lady. [He goes].

Ridgeon.  Good-bye. [He offers his hand].

Mrs Dubedat [drawing back with gentle majesty] I said his friends, Sir Colenso. [He bows and goes].

She unfolds the great piece of silk, and goes into the recess to cover her dead.

ACT V

One of the smaller Bond Street Picture Galleries.  The entrance is from a picture shop.  Nearly in the middle of the gallery there is a writing-table, at which the Secretary, fashionably dressed, sits with his back to the entrance, correcting catalogue proofs.  Some copies of a new book are on the desk, also the Secretary’s shining hat and a couple of magnifying glasses.  At the side, on his left, a little behind him, is a small door marked private.  Near the same side is a cushioned bench parallel to the walls, which are covered with Dubedat’s works.  Two screens, also covered with drawings, stand near the corners right and left of the entrance.

Jennifer, beautifully dressed and apparently very happy and prosperous, comes into the gallery through the private door.

Jennifer.  Have the catalogues come yet, Mr Danby?

The Secretary.  Not yet.

Jennifer.  What a shame!  It’s a quarter past:  the private view will begin in less than half an hour.

The Secretary.  I think I’d better run over to the printers to hurry them up.

Jennifer.  Oh, if you would be so good, Mr Danby.  I’ll take your place while youre away.

The Secretary.  If anyone should come before the time dont take any notice.  The commissionaire wont let anyone through unless he knows him.  We have a few people who like to come before the crowd—­people who really buy; and of course we’re glad to see them.  Have you seen the notices in Brush and Crayon and in The Easel?

Jennifer [indignantly] Yes:  most disgraceful.  They write quite patronizingly, as if they were Mr Dubedat’s superiors.  After all the cigars and sandwiches they had from us on the press day, and all they drank, I really think it is infamous that they should write like that.  I hope you have not sent them tickets for to-day.

The Secretary.  Oh, they wont come again:  theres no lunch to-day.  The advance copies of your book have come. [He indicates the new books].

Jennifer [pouncing on a copy, wildly excited] Give it to me.  Oh! excuse me a moment [she runs away with it through the private door].