GERTRUDE. [Smiling.] How should I know doctor?

KIRKE. [Blotting his writing.] There. How goes the time?

GERTRUDE. Half past eight.

KIRKE. I'll leave this prescription at Mantovani's myself. I can get it
made up to-night.

AGNES. [Taking the prescription out of his hand playfully.] Let me
look.

KIRKE. [Protesting.] Now, now!

AGNES. [Reading the prescription.] Ha, ha! After all, what humbugs
doctors are!

KIRKE. You've never heard me deny it.

AGNES. [Returning the prescription to him.] But I'll swallow it--for
the dignity of my old profession. [She reaches out her hand to take a
cigarette.]

KIRKE. Don't smoke too many of those things.

AGNES. They never harm me. It's a survival of the time in my life when
the cupboard was always empty. [Striking a match.] Only it had to be
stronger tobacco in those days, I can tell you. [She lights her
cigarette. GERTRUDE is assisting KIRKE with his overcoat. LUCAS enters,
in evening dress, looking younger, almost boyish.]