One of the finest Macduffs I ever fought with was bow-legged.
O'Dwyer.
Mr. Teller.
Tom.
[To O'Dwyer.] No, no—Telfer.
O'Dwyer.
Telfer!
[Telfer draws himself erect, puts his hand in his breast, but otherwise remains stationary.]
Mrs. Telfer.
[Anxiously.] That's you, James.