CRAMPTON (wincing with a pang of resentment). Yes---damn her!

VALENTINE (unperturbed). Hm! A father, too, perhaps, as well as a
husband, Mr. Crampton?

CRAMPTON. Three children.

VALENTINE (politely). Damn them?--eh?

CRAMPTON (jealously). No, sir: the children are as much mine as
hers. (The parlor maid brings in a jug of hot water.)

VALENTINE. Thank you. (He takes the jug from her, and brings it to
the cabinet, continuing in the same idle strain) I really should like
to know your family, Mr. Crampton. (The parlor maid goes out: and he
pours some hot water into the drinking glass.)

CRAMPTON. Sorry I can't introduce you, sir. I'm happy to say that I
don't know where they are, and don't care, so long as they keep out of
my way. (Valentine, with a hitch of his eyebrows and shoulders, drops
the forceps with a clink into the glass of hot water.) You needn't warm
that thing to use on me. I'm not afraid of the cold steel. (Valentine
stoops to arrange the gas pump and cylinder beside the chair.) What's
that heavy thing?

VALENTINE. Oh, never mind. Something to put my foot on, to get the
necessary purchase for a good pull. (Crampton looks alarmed in spite of
himself. Valentine stands upright and places the glass with the forceps
in it ready to his hand, chatting on with provoking indifference.) And
so you advise me not to get married, Mr. Crampton? (He stoops to fit