No, I--I didn't telegraph--I forgot----
PASCOE. Well, upon my soul! I specially reminded you yesterday
afternoon.
CARVE. I didn't know the address.
PASCOE. Ever heard of the London Directory? You'd better run out and
wire instantly. You don't seem to realize that the death of a man like
Ilam Carve will make something of a stir in the world. And you may
depend on it that whether they'd quarrelled or not, Cyrus Carve will
want to know why he wasn't informed of the illness at once. You've let
yourself in for a fine row, and well you deserve it.
CARVE. (After a few paces.) See here, doctor. I'm afraid there's been
some mistake. (Facing him nervously.)
PASCOE. What?
CARVE. I--I----
(Bell rings.)
PASCOE. (Firmly.) Listen to me, my man. There's been no sort of
mistake. Everything has been done that could be done. Don't you get
ideas into your head. Lie down and rest. You're done up, and if you
aren't careful you'll be ill. I'll communicate with Cyrus Carve. I can
telephone, and while I'm about it I'll ring up the registrar too--he'll
probably send a clerk round.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37