What is
done can't be undone, more's the pity, yet the remedy should be
based upon all the past.--Where do you think he is now?
LAURA. I have no idea, he has such wild streaks.
DOCTOR. Would you like to have me stay until he returns? To avoid
suspicion, I could say that I had come to see your mother who is
not well.
LAURA. Yes, that will do very nicely. Don't leave us, Doctor; if
you only knew how troubled I am! But wouldn't it be better to tell
him outright what you think of his condition.
DOCTOR. We never do that unless the patient mentions the subject
himself, and very seldom even then. It depends entirely on the
case. But we mustn't sit here; perhaps I had better go into the
next room; it will look more natural.
LAURA. Yes, that will be better, and Margret can sit here. She
always waits up when he is out, and she is the only one who has any
power over him. [Goes to the door left] Margret, Margret!
NURSE. Yes, Ma'am. Has the master come home?
LAURA. No; but you are to sit here and wait for him, and when he
does come you are to say my mother is ill and that's why the doctor
is here.
NURSE. Yes, yes. I'll see that everything is all right.
LAURA [Opens the door to inner rooms]. Will you come in here,
Doctor?
DOCTOR. Thank you.
[Nurse seats herself at the table and takes up a hymn book and
spectacles and reads.]
NURSE. Ah, yes, ah yes!
[Reads half aloud]
Ah woe is me, how sad a thing
Is life within this vale of tears,
Death's angel triumphs like a king,
And calls aloud to all the spheres--
Vanity, all is vanity.
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