No
understanding, no intelligence, no sympathy--[_his sobs choke him_].
THE WOMAN. You see, you are ill.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [_nerved by indignation_] I am not ill. I have
never had a day's illness in my life.
THE WOMAN. May I advise you?
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. I have no need of a lady doctor, thank you,
madam.
THE WOMAN [_shaking her head_] I am afraid I do not understand. I said
nothing about a butterfly.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN. Well, _I_ said nothing about a butterfly.
THE WOMAN. You spoke of a lady doctor. The word is known here only as
the name of a butterfly.
THE ELDERLY GENTLEMAN [_insanely_] I give up. I can bear this no longer.
It is easier to go out of my mind at once. [_He rises and dances about,
singing_]
I'd be a butterfly, born in a bower,
Making apple dumplings without any flour.
THE WOMAN [_smiling gravely_] It must be at least a hundred and fifty
years since I last laughed. But if you do that any more I shall
certainly break out like a primary of sixty. Your dress is so
extraordinarily ridiculous.
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