My liver discovery
has been--er--er--(he cannot bring himself to say it).
CHARTERIS (helping him out). Confirmed? (Sadly.) I see: the poor
Colonel's doomed.
PARAMORE. No: on the contrary, it has been--er--called in question.
The Colonel now believes himself to be in perfectly good health; and
my friendly relations with the Cravens are entirely spoiled.
CHARTERIS. Who told him about it?
PARAMORE. I did, of course, the moment I read the news in this. (He
shews the Journal and puts it down on the bookstand.)
CHARTERIS. Why, man, you've been a messenger of glad tidings! Didn't
you congratulate him?
PARAMORE (scandalised). Congratulate him! Congratulate a man on the
worst blow pathological science has received for the last three
hundred years!
CHARTERIS. No, no, no. Congratulate him on having his life saved.
Congratulate Julia on having her father spared. Swear that your
discovery and your reputation are as nothing to you compared with the
pleasure of restoring happiness to the household in which the best
hopes of your life are centred. Confound it, man, you'll never get
married if you can't turn things to account with a woman in these
little ways.
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