DR. MACPHERSON. [_At the 'phone._] Marget, I'm at Peter's. I mean--I'm at
the Grimms'. Send me my bag. I'll stay the night with William. Bye.
[_Seats himself at the table._

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. Tell Frederik that, if he cares to consult me, I
shall be at home in my study. Good-night, Doctor. Good-night, Rose.

DR. MACPHERSON. Hold on, Mr. Batholommey! [_The_ REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY
_turns._] I'm writing an account of all that's happened here to-night--

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. [_Dubiously._] Indeed!

DR. MACPHERSON. I shall verify every word of the evidence by William's
mother for whom I am searching. [_The_ REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY _smiles
faintly behind his hand._] Then I shall send in my report, and not until
then. What I wish to ask is this: would you have any objection to the name
of Mrs. Batholommey being used as a witness?

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. [_Looks perplexed._] Well,--er--a--

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. Oh, no, you don't! You may flout our beliefs; but
wouldn't you like to bolster up your report with "the wife of a clergyman
who was present!" It sounds so respectable and sane, doesn't it? No, sir!
You cannot prop up your wild-eyed--

REV. MR. BATHOLOMMEY. Rose, my dear!

MRS. BATHOLOMMEY. [_Sweeping on._]--theories against the good black of a
minister's coat. _I_ think myself that you have _probably_ stumbled on the
truth about William's mother.