Campbell.'

WILLIS: 'Why don't you advertise, Doctor? Patients need only
enclose a lock of their hair, and the colour of their eyes, with one
dollar to pay the cost of materials, which will be sent, with full
directions for treatment, by return mail. Seventh son of a seventh
son.'

LAWTON: 'Ah, don't try to jest it away, my poor friend. This is
one of those obscure diseases of the heart--induration of the
pericardium--which, if not taken in time, result in deceitfulness
above all things, and desperate wickedness.'

WILLIS: 'Look here, Dr. Lawton, what are you up to?'

LAWTON: 'Look here, Mr. Campbell, what is your little game?'

WILLIS: '_I_ don't know what you're up to.' He shrugs his
shoulders and walks up the room.

LAWTON, shrugging his shoulders and walking up the room abreast of
Campbell: '_I_ don't know what your little game is.' They return
together, and stop, confronting each other.

WILLIS: 'But if you think I'm going to give myself away--'

LAWTON: 'If you suppose I'm going to take you at your own figure--'
They walk up the room together, and return as before.

WILLIS: 'Mrs. Bemis, what is this unnatural parent of yours after?'