Ought we to follow her? Is she in her right senses?

SIR PATRICK [with quiet conviction]. Yes. Shes all right. Leave her
alone. She'll come back.

RIDGEON [callously] Let us get this thing out of the way before she
comes.

B. B. [rising, shocked] My dear Colly! The poor lad! He died splendidly.

SIR PATRICK. Aye! that is how the wicked die.

For there are no bands in their death;
But their strength is firm:
They are not in trouble as other men.

No matter: its not for us to judge. Hes in another world now.

WALPOLE. Borrowing his first five-pound note there, probably.

RIDGEON. I said the other day that the most tragic thing in the world is
a sick doctor. I was wrong. The most tragic thing in the world is a man
of genius who is not also a man of honor.

Ridgeon and Walpole wheel the chair into the recess.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN [to Sir Ralph] I thought it shewed a very nice
feeling, his being so particular about his wife going into proper
mourning for him and making her promise never to marry again.

B. B. [impressively] Mrs Dubedat is not in a position to carry the
interview any further. Neither are we.

SIR PATRICK. Good afternoon to you.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN. Mrs. Dubedat said she was coming back.

B. B. After you have gone.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN. Do you think she would give me a few words on How It
Feels to be a Widow? Rather a good title for an article, isnt it?

B. B. Young man: if you wait until Mrs Dubedat comes back, you will be
able to write an article on How It Feels to be Turned Out of the House.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN [unconvinced] You think she'd rather not--

B. B. [cutting him short] Good day to you. [Giving him a visiting-card]
Mind you get my name correctly. Good day.

THE NEWSPAPER MAN. Good day. Thank you. [Vaguely trying to read the
card] Mr--

B. B. No, not Mister. This is your hat, I think [giving it to him].
Gloves? No, of course: no gloves. Good day to you. [He edges him out at
last; shuts the door on him; and returns to Sir Patrick as Ridgeon and
Walpole come back from the recess, Walpole crossing the room to the
hat-stand, and Ridgeon coming between Sir Ralph and Sir Patrick].
Poor fellow! Poor young fellow! How well he died! I feel a better man,
really.

SIR PATRICK. When youre as old as I am, youll know that it matters very
little how a man dies. What matters is, how he lives. Every fool that
runs his nose against a bullet is a hero nowadays, because he dies fo