Chapter IX: Act II

SCENE: _The same room, slightly more dingy._ JEMIMA BLOGGS, _her husband, and a_ DOCTOR _are standing under the gas bracket_. HOOKER, _as usual, is crouching over the starveling fire_.

THE DOCTOR (_curtly_): She can’t live. It’s only a matter of days, perhaps hours. I must go.

BLOGGS: Can nothing be done?

THE DOCTOR: Can you send her to the Riviera?

BLOGGS: No. Would that cure her?

THE DOCTOR: It might.... I’m sorry. Good-day. (_He goes._)

JEMIMA (_in a shaking voice_): I’ll get your tea, Joseph. (_She begins taking down the cups and laying the table._)

BLOGGS (_as if in a trance_): The Riviera might save her. (_He takes his hat._)

JEMIMA: Won’t you wait for tea before you go?

BLOGGS: I don’t want any tea. (_He slouches miserably out._)

HOOKER: The fog’s very thick.

JEMIMA: Yes.

HOOKER: It’s still raining. (_He takes his hat and coat._)

JEMIMA: Won’t you stay for tea, Mr. Hooker?

HOOKER: I don’t feel equal to tea. (_He goes out unsteadily._ JEMIMA _sits wretchedly by the smouldering hearth. The child cries out in its delirium. The fog steals into the room obscuring everything._)

THE CURTAIN FALLS.