BERE.]

MRS. BRADMERE Ah! Jim; you're looking better.

[JIM BERE shakes his head. MRS. BRADMERE. Oh! yes, you are.
Getting on splendidly. And now, I just want to speak to Mr.
Strangway.]

[JIM BERE touches his forelock, and slowly, leaning on his
stick, goes out.]

MRS. BRADMERE. [Waiting for the door to close] You know how that
came on him? Caught the girl he was engaged to, one night, with
another man, the rage broke something here. [She touches her
forehead] Four years ago.

STRANGWAY. Poor fellow!

MRS. BRADMERE. [Looking at him sharply] Is your wife back?

STRANGWAY. [Starting] No.

MRS. BRADMERE. By the way, poor Mrs. Cremer--is she any better?

STRANGWAY. No; going fast: Wonderful--so patient.

MRS. BRADMERE. [With gruff sympathy] Um! Yes. They know how to
die! [Wide another sharp look at him] D'you expect your wife soon?

STRANGWAY. I I--hope so.