l, in his overcoat, his throat wrapped
in a shawl. He is a slim young man of 23, physically still a stripling,
and pretty, though not effeminate. He has turquoise blue eyes, and a
trick of looking you straight in the face with them, which, combined
with a frank smile, is very engaging. Although he is all nerves, and
very observant and quick of apprehension, he is not in the least shy. He
is younger than Jennifer; but he patronizes her as a matter of course.
The doctors do not put him out in the least: neither Sir Patrick's years
nor Bloomfield Bonington's majesty have the smallest apparent effect
on him: he is as natural as a cat: he moves among men as most men move
among things, though he is intentionally making himself agreeable to
them on this occasion. Like all people who can be depended on to take
care of themselves, he is welcome company; and his artist's power of
appealing to the imagination gains him credit for all sorts of qualities
and powers, whether he possesses them or not.

LOUIS [pulling on his gloves behind Ridgeon's chair] Now, Jinny-Gwinny:
the motor has come round.

RIDGEON. Why do you let him spoil your beautiful name like that, Mrs
Dubedat?

MRS DUBEDAT. Oh, on grand occasions I am Jennifer.

B. B. You are a bachelor: you do not understand these things, Ridgeon.
Look at me [They look]. I also have two names. In moments of domestic
worry, I am simple Ralph. When the sun shines in the home, I am
Beedle-Deedle-Dumkins. Such is married life! Mr Dubedat: may I ask you
to do me a favor before you go. Will you sign your name to this menu
card, under the sketch you have made of me?

WALPOLE. Yes; and mine too, if you will be so good.

LOUIS. Certainly. [He sits down and signs the cards].

MRS DUBEDAT. Wont you sign Dr Schutzmacher's for him, Louis?

LOUIS. I dont think Dr Schutzmacher is pleased with his portrait. I'll
tear it up. [He reaches across the table for Schutzmacher's menu card,
and is about to tear it. Schutzmacher makes no sign].

RIDGEON. No, no: if Loony doesnt want it, I do.

LOUIS. I'll sign it for you with pleasure. [He signs and hands it to
Ridgeon]. Ive just been making a little note of the river to-night:
it will work up into something good [he shews a pocket sketch-book]. I
think I'll call it the Silver Danube.

B. B. Ah, charming, charming.

WALPOLE. Very sweet. Youre a nailer at pastel.

Louis coughs, first out of modesty, then from tuberculosis.

SIR PATRICK. Now the