Well, you see, as soon as he came out of the what d'you
call 'em, he got drunk for a week, and it left him in low spirits.
BERTLEY. Do you mean he deliberately sat down, with the
intention--of--er?
WELLWYN. Said he was tired of life, but they didn't believe him.
ANN. Rather a score for Sir Thomas! I suppose he'd told the
Professor? What did he say?
WELLWYN. Well, the Professor said [with a quick glance at BERTLEY]
he felt there was nothing for some of these poor devils but a lethal
chamber.
BERTLEY. [Shocked.] Did he really!
[He has not yet caught WELLWYN' s glance.]
WELLWYN. And Sir Thomas agreed. Historic occasion. And you, Vicar
H'm!
[BERTLEY winces.]
ANN. [To herself.] Well, there isn't.
BERTLEY. And yet! Some good in the old fellow, no doubt, if one
could put one's finger on it. [Preparing to go.] You'll let us
know, then, when you're settled. What was the address? [WELLWYN
takes out and hands him a card.] Ah! yes. Good-bye, Ann.
Good-bye, Wellyn. [The wind blows his hat along the street.] What
a wind! [He goes, pursuing.]
ANN. [Who has eyed the card askance.
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