Act III - Page 2

CONJURER. Oh, of course. People in delirium always keep secrets
strictly.

DOCTOR. No one sees the patient but his sister and myself.

CONJURER. [_Starts slightly._] Yes, his sister. Is she very anxious?

DOCTOR. [_In a lower voice._] What would you suppose?

[CONJURER _throws himself into the chair, his cloak slipping back
from his evening dress. He ruminates for a short space and then
speaks._

CONJURER. Doctor, there are about a thousand reasons why I should not
tell you how I really did that trick. But one will suffice, because it
is the most practical of all.

DOCTOR. Well? And why shouldn't you tell me?

CONJURER. Because you wouldn't believe me if I did.

[_A silence, the_ DOCTOR _looking at him curiously._

[_Enter the_ DUKE _with papers in his hand. His usual gaiety of
manner has a rather forced air, owing to the fact that by some
vague sick-room associations he walks as if on tip-toe and begins
to speak in a sort of loud or shrill whisper. This he fortunately
forgets and falls into his more natural voice._

DUKE. [_To_ CONJURER.] So very kind of you to have waited, Professor. I
expect Dr. Grimthorpe has explained the little difficulty we are in
much better than I could. Nothing like the medical mind for a scientific
statement. [_Hazily._] Look at Ibsen.

[_Silence._

DOCTOR. Of course the Professor feels considerable reluctance in the
matter. He points out that his secrets are an essential part of his
profession.

DUKE. Of course, of course. Tricks of the trade, eh? Very proper, of
course. Quite a case of _noblesse oblige_ [_Silence._] But I dare say we
shall be able to find a way out of the matter. [_He turns to the_
CONJURER.] Now, my dear sir, I hope you will not be offended if I say
that this ought to be a business matter. We are asking you for a piece
of your professional work and knowledge, and if I may have the pleasure
of writing you a cheque....

CONJURER. I thank your Grace, I have already received my cheque from
your secretary. You will find it on the counterfoil just after the
cheque you so kindly gave to the Society for the Suppression of
Conjuring.

DUKE. Now I don't want you to take it in that way. I want you to take
it in a broader way. Free, you know. [_With an expansive gesture._]
Modern and all that! Wonderful man, Bernard Shaw!

[_Silence._

DOCTOR. [_With a slight cough, resuming._] If you feel any delicacy the
payment need not be made merely to you. I quite respect your feelings in
the matter.

DUKE. [_Approvingly._] Quite so, quite so. Haven't you got a Cause or
something? Everybody has a cause now, you know. Conjurers' widows or
something of that kind.