TULLY. Oh, I think he will. In fact it's nearly settled. And if you approach him in the matter, I feel sure he would lend you the £500.
JOHN. But _I_ was in that 'bus with him coming from Kew.
JOHN. And if Dick Turner could get five hundred, I'm positive I could.
TULLY. Well, I'm sure he's going to get it.
JOHN. But there was scarcely any damage done. I didn't receive a scratch, neither did Dick Turner. I was thrown forward on top of a fat old woman sitting opposite.
TULLY. Still you can't always tell at the time of the accident--injuries sometimes develop afterwards.
(_Business of drawing patterns on carpet with foot._)
JOHN (_rises and crosses slowly R._). Yes, of course, especially after you've seen your solicitor.
JOHN. Don't talk to me--my brain's working.
TULLY. You know, John, in all cases of 'bus accidents the 'Bus Companies have to pay out according to what the doctors think.
JOHN. The question is to _make_ the doctors think. Why should Dick Turner get five hundred, and I get nothing?
JOHN. Don't talk, don't talk! I've got the most wonderful brain. (_Hand to forehead._)
TULLY (_obeys_). Oh!--did you get that under the table?
JOHN. No, silly ass, it's a natural bump. (_Excited._) It's all so simple. It's wonderful how I get myself out of every difficulty. Now, will you run down to the doctor's for me! (_Going up to telephone._) The last block of flats, you know?
JOHN (_looking through Telephone Book for number_). Yes! That's it. Ask him to call at once.
TULLY. John! You're not going to pretend to the doctor that you are ill?
TULLY. Oh no, John! (_Working fingers along back of arm-chair._) I couldn't do a thing like that. It's not fair--it's not honest. (_Protests in action against the suggestion until JOHN says "BERTRAM," when a broad smile comes across his face._)
JOHN (_rising and crossing to TULLY--pleadingly_). Bertram! (_Affectionately._) Bertram!!!
TULLY (_giggles affectedly_). Oh! John! (_Crossing to door L._) Oh! John! (_Giggles._) Oh! John! (_Giggles till off door L. Quick exit._)
JOHN (_goes to telephone. At 'phone_). Give me Regent one--four--three--six quickly, Miss, please. . . . Yes. . . . Hullo! hullo! are you the Motor Omnibus Company? . . . Yes, yes. Mrs. John Ayers speaking! (_Adopting a feminine voice._) _Mrs._ John Ayers. . . . Yes . . . my husband was in that terrible 'bus accident you had last Friday coming from Kew. Yes . . . my _husband!_ And he's very ill indeed. Yes . . . eh? (_Dropping into his own voice._) Oh! speak up! I can't hear a damned word you're saying. (_Hand over 'phone for a second--then resuming in feminine voice._) Oh! He didn't notice it at the time. He has witnesses to prove everything. Eh? I can't hear. . . . Oh, you'll send your inspector round to look into it . . . eh? You'll send your inspector round to look into it. Oh, very good, but don't send him immediately as the patient is asleep. Eh? . . . yes, in about half an hour's time . . . we're quite close to your depot . . . we're quite close to your depot . . . number 13 St. Mark's Mansions. Yes--very well--thank you--Good-bye! (_Puts up receiver. He looks round and takes off jacket. CHALMERS enters L._) What is it? What is it?