Sir Patrick Cullen as old
Paddy Cullen, you young ruffian?

REDPENNY. You never call him anything else.

RIDGEON. Not now that I am Sir Colenso. Next thing, you fellows will be
calling me old Colly Ridgeon.

REDPENNY. We do, at St. Anne's.

RIDGEON. Yach! Thats what makes the medical student the most disgusting
figure in modern civilization. No veneration, no manners--no--

EMMY [at the door, announcing]. Sir Patrick Cullen. [She retires].

Sir Patrick Cullen is more than twenty years older than Ridgeon, not
yet quite at the end of his tether, but near it and resigned to it.
His name, his plain, downright, sometimes rather arid common sense, his
large build and stature, the absence of those odd moments of ceremonial
servility by which an old English doctor sometimes shews you what the
status of the profession was in England in his youth, and an occasional
turn of speech, are Irish; but he has lived all his life in England and
is thoroughly acclimatized. His manner to Ridgeon, whom he likes, is
whimsical and fatherly: to others he is a little gruff and uninviting,
apt to substitute more or less expressive grunts for articulate speech,
and generally indisposed, at his age, to make much social effort. He
shakes Ridgeon's hand and beams at him cordially and jocularly.

SIR PATRICK. Well, young chap. Is your hat too small for you, eh?

RIDGEON. Much too small. I owe it all to you.

SIR PATRICK. Blarney, my boy. Thank you all the same. [He sits in one of
the arm-chairs near the fireplace. Ridgeon sits on the couch]. Ive come
to talk to you a bit. [To Redpenny] Young man: get out.

REDPENNY. Certainly, Sir Patrick [He collects his papers and makes for
the door].

SIR PATRICK. Thank you. Thats a good lad. [Redpenny vanishes]. They all
put up with me, these young chaps, because I'm an old man, a real old
man, not like you. Youre only beginning to give yourself the airs of
age. Did you ever see a boy cultivating a moustache? Well, a middle-aged
doctor cultivating a grey head is much the same sort of spectacle.

RIDGEON. Good Lord! yes: I suppose so. And I thought that the days of my
vanity were past. Tell me at what age does a man leave off being a fool?

SIR PATRICK. Remember the Frenchman who asked his grandmother at what
age we get free from the temptations of love. The old woman said she
didn't know. [Ridgeon laughs]. Well, I make you the same answer. But the
world's growing very interesting to me now, Colly.