OLIVER. Well, I suppose that was a lucid interval.... Look here, _you_ think it over seriously. I read a book once about a fellow who stole another man’s novel. Perhaps Blayds read it too and got it mixed up. Why not at that age? Or perhaps he was thinking of using the idea himself. And turning it over and over in his mind, living with it, so to speak, day and night, he might very easily begin to think that it was something that had happened to himself. At his age. And then on his death-bed, feeling that he must confess something—thoroughly muddled, poor old fellow—well, you see how easily it might happen. Hallucination. ROYCE (_regarding him admiringly_). You know, Oliver, I think you underrate your intrinsic qualities as a politician. You mustn’t waste yourself on engineering. OLIVER. Thanks very much. I suppose Father hasn’t mentioned the word “hallucination” to you yet? ROYCE. No, not yet. OLIVER. Perhaps he hadn’t got my letter this morning. But it’s worth thinking about, it is really. ROYCE (_hard at it again_). Yes, I am sure it is. OLIVER. You know—— ROYCE. You know, Oliver, I’m really very busy. OLIVER (_getting up_). Oh, all right. And I want a wash anyway. Is Father in his study? ROYCE. Yes. Also very busy. If you really are going, I wish you’d see if Miss Blayds could spare me a moment. OLIVER. Right. (_Turning to the door and seeing ISOBEL come in_) She can. Hallo, Aunt Isobel! ISOBEL. I thought I heard your voice. Did you have an interesting time? OLIVER. Rather! I was telling Royce. (_He takes her hand and pats it kindly_) And I say, it’s all right. Quite all right. (_He kisses her hand_) Believe me, it’s going to be absolutely all right. You see. (_He pats her hand soothingly and goes out._) ISOBEL (_rather touched_). Dear boy! ROYCE. Yes, Oliver has a great future in politics. ISOBEL (_going to the sofa_). I’m tired. ROYCE. You’ve been doing too much. Sit down and rest a little. ISOBEL (_sitting_). No, go on. I shan’t disturb you? ROYCE. Talk to me. I’ve worked quite enough too. ISOBEL. Shall we be ready by to-morrow? ROYCE. I think so. ISOBEL. I want to be rid of it—to get it out of my head where it just goes round and round. It will be a relief when the whole world knows. (_With a little smile_) What a sensation for them! ROYCE. Yes. (_Also smiling_) Isn’t it funny how that comes in? ISOBEL. What? ROYCE. The excitement at the back of one’s mind when anything unusual happens, however disastrous. ISOBEL (_smiling_). Did I sound very excited? ROYCE. You sounded alive for the first time. ISOBEL. These last two days have helped me. It has been a great comfort to have you here. It was good of you to come. ROYCE. But of course I came. ISOBEL. I was looking up _Who’s Who_ for an address, and I went on to your name—you know how one does. I hadn’t realised you were so famous or so busy. It was good of you to come.... Your wife died? ROYCE (_surprised_). Yes. ISOBEL. I didn’t know.