VALENTINE. Oh, if you like being hurt, all right. I'll hurt you as
much as you like, without any extra charge for the beneficial effect on
your character.

CRAMPTON (rising and glaring at him). Young man: you owe me six
weeks' rent.

VALENTINE. I do.

CRAMPTON. Can you pay me?

VALENTINE. No.

CRAMPTON (satisfied with his advantage). I thought not. How soon
d'y' think you'll be able to pay me if you have no better manners than
to make game of your patients? (He sits down again.)

VALENTINE. My good sir: my patients haven't all formed their
characters on kitchen soap.

CRAMPTON (suddenly gripping him by the arm as he turns away again to
the cabinet). So much the worse for them. I tell you you don't
understand my character. If I could spare all my teeth, I'd make you
pull them all out one after another to shew you what a properly hardened
man can go through with when he's made up his mind to do it. (He nods
at him to enforce the effect of this declaration, and releases him.)

VALENTINE (his careless pleasantry quite unruffled). And you want to
be more hardened, do you?