WILLIS: 'It isn't a simple matter like telling them to start the
elevator down when they couldn't start her up. I've got to think it
over.' He walks to and fro, Roberts's eyes helplessly following his
movements. 'How would it do to--No, that wouldn't do, either.'

ROBERTS: 'What wouldn't?'

WILLIS: 'Nothing. I was just thinking--I say, you might--Or, no,
you couldn't.'

ROBERTS: 'Couldn't what?'

WILLIS: 'Nothing. But if you were to--No; up a stump that way
too.'

ROBERTS: 'Which way? For mercy's sake, my dear fellow, don't seem
to get a clew if you haven't it. It's more than I can bear.' He
rises, and desperately confronts Willis in his promenade. 'If you
see any hope at all--'

WILLIS, stopping: 'Why, if you were a different sort of fellow,
Roberts, the thing would be perfectly easy.'

ROBERTS: 'Very well, then. What sort of fellow do you want me to
be? I'll be any sort of fellow you like.'

WILLIS: 'Oh, but you couldn't! With that face of yours, and that
confounded conscience of yours behind it, you would give away the
whitest lie that was ever told.'