There's my 'phone, [_As a bell is heard faintly but persistently ringing
across the street_] I'll be back. [_Catches up his hat to hasten off._

PETER. Just a minute.

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Turning_] Don't fret yourself, Peter. You're not to
imagine you're worse than you are. [_Angrily_.] Don't funk!

PETER. [_Calmly_] That wasn't my reason for detaining you, Andrew. [_With
a twinkle in his eye_] I merely wanted to say--

DR. MACPHERSON. Yes?

PETER. That if there is anything in that ghost business of yours, I won't
forget to come back and apologize for my want of faith. [_The_ DOCTOR
_goes home_. FREDERIK _stands looking at his_ UNCLE. _There is a long
pause._ PETER _throws up both hands_] Rubbish! Doctors are very often
wrong. It's all guess work, eh, Fritz?

FREDERIK. [_Thinking of his future in case of_ PETER'S _death_] Yes, sir.

PETER. However, to be on the safe side, I'll take that nip of plum brandy.
[_Then thinking aloud_.] Not yet ... Not yet ... I'm not ready to die yet.
I have so much to live for. ... When I'm older ... When I'm a little old
leaf ready to curl up, eh, Fritz? [_He drains the glass. Goes up to the
peg, takes dawn his hat, looks at it as though remembering_ WILLIAM'S
_words, then puts it back on the peg. He shows no sign of taking_ DR.
MACPHERSON'S _verdict to heart--in fact, he doesn't believe it_.]
Frederik, get me some small change for the circus--enough for William and
me.