s the patient's pulse. Then turning to
CARVE, in a low curt voiced) When did this begin?

CARVE. Just now. That is, he only began to complain about six o'clock.
We arrived in London this morning from Madrid.

PASCOE. (Reading thermometer.) Temperature 104-1/2. Pulse is 140--and
weak. I must have some boiling water.

CARVE. (At a loss.) What for?

PASCOE. What for? For a poultice.

CARVE. (Helplessly.) But there isn't any ... we've nothing except this
spirit-lamp. (Pointing to lamp on table.)

PASCOE. No women in the house?

CARVE. (With humour that the doctor declines to see.) Not one.

PASCOE. (Controlling his exasperation.) Never mind. I'll run round to
the surgery and get my hypodermic. (To SHAWN, reassuringly and
deferentially.) I shall be back at once, Mr. Carve. (To CARVE, near
door.) Keep your master well covered up--I suppose you can do that?

(Exit.)

CARVE. Shawn, my poor fellow, he takes you for the illustrious Ilam
Carve. This is what comes of me rushing out in shirt sleeves. (Gesture
of despair.) I can't explain it to him.

SHAWN. But----

CARVE. It's all right. You'll be infinitely better looked after, you
know, and I shall be saved from their infernal curiosity.

SHAWN. It's only this, sir. I was half-expecting a young lady to-night,
sir (very feebly). At least, I believe she's young.

CARVE. Shawn, I've always suspected you were a bad lot. Now I know. I
also know why you were so devilish anxious to put me to bed early. What
am I to say to this young lady on your behalf?

(SHAWN worse, too ill to answer. Pause. Re-enter DR. PASCOE,
very rapidly, with a large tumbler half-full of hot liquid.)

PASCOE. You may say I've been quick. (As he bends down to SHAWN,
addressing CARVE.) Get me a wine glass of clean cold water. (To
SHAWN.) Now, please. I want you to drink a little brandy and water.
(SHAWN makes no response.) By Jove! (The doctor pours some of the
brandy and water down SHAWN'S throat.)

CARVE. (Who has been wandering about vaguely.) I don't think we've got
a wine glass. There's a cup, but I suppose that isn't medical enough.

PASCOE. (Taking a syringe from his pocket and unscrewing it.) Pour
some water in it. (CARVE obeys.) Now, hold it.

CARVE. (Indicating syringe.) What is this device? PASCOE. This device?
I'm going to get some strychnine into him by injection. Steady with that
cup, now!

(Pascoe drops a tablet into the syringe and screws it up again,