PETER. What? Mine?

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Getting a pad from his pocket--writing out a
prescription with his fountain pen._] I'll leave this prescription at the
druggist's--

PETER. I'm quite shut out.... They've closed the door and turned the key
on me.

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Suddenly noticing that_ CATHERINE _seems more
cheerful._] What's happened? I left you in tears and here you are--all
smiles.

CATHERINE. Yes, I--I am happier--for some reason.... For the last few
minutes I--I've had such a strange feeling.

DR. MACPHERSON. That's odd: so have I! Been as restless as a hungry mouse.
Something seemed to draw me down here--can't explain it.

PETER. I'm beginning to be felt in this house.

DR. MACPHERSON. Catherine, I have the firm conviction that, in a very
short time, I shall hear from Peter. [_Sitting at the table._

PETER. I hope so. It's high time now.

DR. MACPHERSON. What I want is some positive proof; some absolute test;
some--er--[_Thinks._