CRAMPTON. That's a spoiled child, Mr. Valentine. That's one of your
modern products. When I was her age, I had many a good hiding fresh in
my memory to teach me manners.

VALENTINE (taking up his dental mirror and probe from the shelf in
front of the cabinet). What did you think of her sister?

CRAMPTON. You liked her better, eh?

VALENTINE (rhapsodically). She struck me as being--- (He checks
himself, and adds, prosaically) However, that's not business. (He
places himself behind Crampton's right shoulder and assumes his
professional tone.) Open, please. (Crampton opens his mouth.
Valentine puts the mirror in, and examines his teeth.) Hm! You have
broken that one. What a pity to spoil such a splendid set of teeth!
Why do you crack nuts with them? (He withdraws the mirror, and comes
forward to converse with Crampton.)

CRAMPTON. I've always cracked nuts with them: what else are they
for? (Dogmatically.) The proper way to keep teeth good is to give them
plenty of use on bones and nuts, and wash them every day with soap---
plain yellow soap.

VALENTINE. Soap! Why soap?

CRAMPTON. I began using it as a boy because I was made to; and I've
used it ever since. And I never had toothache in my life.

VALENTINE. Don't you find it rather nasty?