MRS. CLARENCE. This is not a hospital. John, shut the door. HORACE. (_Holding the door open_) Mrs. Clarence, you must not refuse this service. MRS. CLARENCE. And pray, who are you? HORACE. Horace Parker, a ruined man as you know—a tramp as you see. MRS. CLARENCE. John, do you hear me? HORACE. Mrs. Clarence—may he lie on the mat where your dog sleeps? MRS. CLARENCE. John—— (_Retires, and door is shut in HORACE’S face._) HORACE. You hear? What shall I do for him, Marsy? MESSENGER. Well done, my pupil! TRAMP. You’re a good ’un. I said it all along. MESSENGER. Feel in your pocket. HORACE. My pocket? What for? What’s this? A note! A pound note! Halves, Partner! Halves! (_HORACE bending over TRAMP, succoring him._) CURTAIN ACT III _Scene same as at end of ACT I._ _At rise of curtain there should be shown on a transparency set, well down stage, a picture of the end of the last act, the snow scene and HORACE bending over the TRAMP and THE MESSENGER soaring homewards. At the same time HORACE himself is seen sleeping in his chair, breathing heavily. With the first clanging of the fire-engine bell and HORACE waking up, the lights increase at back and the dream scene fades away. The lamp is now seen to be lighted again, the fire burning brightly, and an “Extra” evening paper lying on table, close to HORACE. After sufficient pause after curtain is up, a fire engine is heard rumbling past from R. to L. outside, and this disturbs HORACE, who begins to wake, as the transparency picture fades away._ HORACE. (_Looks about him, bewildered, then at his clothes. Gives a short laugh and grunt, and leans back, smiling, with closed eyes._) What a nightmare! (N.B. _If the statue of the Messenger is not used in performing the play, the following will be the correct speech, but if the figure is now on the lamp-stand, reference may be made and addressed to him in the second person._) HORACE. Marsy, old boy, you have a lot to answer for! Fancy my dreaming I was hungry! Comes of eating a heavy dinner. (_With a sudden thought._) By Jove! (_Searches his pockets for his money. Finds it with a sigh of relief. Counts his notes carefully._) Ten, twenty, fifty, and one. All there. (_Pulls out some silver from his trousers pocket._) Even the silver. Very careless, very careless of me. I can hardly be trusted out at night with so much. I might in a weak moment hand it over to some hospital amid the admiring cheers of the populace. I must watch myself. (_Loud clang of fire-engine bell as it passes from R. to L. startles him, and involuntarily he shouts out._)