conscious, and consequently specially off-hand with Redpenny.

RIDGEON. Have you seen the papers? Youll have to alter the name
in the letters if you havnt.

REDPENNY. Emmy has just told me. I'm awfully glad. I--

RIDGEON. Enough, young man, enough. You will soon get accustomed
to it.

REDPENNY. They ought to have done it years ago.

RIDGEON. They would have; only they couldnt stand Emmy opening
the door, I daresay.

EMMY [at the door, announcing] Dr Shoemaker. [She withdraws].

A middle-aged gentleman, well dressed, comes in with a friendly
but propitiatory air, not quite sure of his reception. His
combination of soft manners and responsive kindliness, with a
certain unseizable reserve and a familiar yet foreign chiselling
of feature, reveal the Jew: in this instance the handsome
gentlemanly Jew, gone a little pigeon-breasted and stale after
thirty, as handsome young Jews often do, but still decidedly
good-looking.

THE GENTLEMAN. Do you remember me? Schutzmacher. University
College school and Belsize Avenue. Loony Schutzmacher, you know.

RIDGEON. What! Loony! [He shakes hands cordially]. Why, man, I