DR. MACPHERSON. [_Unconsciously grasping the thought._] I believe it is
possible to have more than one chance at our work.

PETER. There ... you caught that.... Why can't you take my message to
Catherine?

DR. MACPHERSON. [_Rising to get his shawl--gruffly._] Thought over what I
told you concerning this marriage? Not too late to back out.

PETER. He's beginning to take the message.

CATHERINE. Everything's arranged: I shall be married as Uncle Peter
wished. I sha'n't change my mind.

DR. MACPHERSON. H'm! [_Picks up his shawl._

PETER. [_Trying to detain the_ DOCTOR--_tugging at his shawl without
seeming to pull it._] Don't give up! Don't give up! A girl can always
change her mind--while there's life. Don't give up! [_The_ DOCTOR _turns,
facing_ PETER, _looking directly at him as he puts his hand in his coat
pocket._] You heard that, eh?... Didn't you? Yes? Did it cross over?...
What?... It did?... You're looking me in the face, Andrew; can you see me?
[_The_ DOCTOR _takes a pencil out of his pocket, writes a prescription,
throws his shawl over his shoulder--turning his back towards_ PETER _and
facing_ CATHERINE.] Tc! Tc! Tc!

DR. MACPHERSON. Good-night.

CATHERINE. Good-night. [CATHERINE _goes quietly to the fireplace, kneeling
down, mends the fire, and remains there sitting on an ottoman._