The bell, sir--excuse me.
CARVE. Confound----
(Exit CARVE.)
(SHAWN coughs and puts a handkerchief to his mouth. CARVE
returns immediately with DR. PASCOE.)
PASCOE. (Glancing round quickly.) This the patient? (Goes to SHAWN,
and looks at him. Then, taking a clinical thermometer from his pocket
and wiping it; with marked respect.) Allow me to put this under your
tongue for half a minute. (Having done so, he takes SHAWN'S wrist
and, looking at his watch, counts 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.
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