So I've understood. [With suppressed irritation.] For goodness' sake, let go my legs! I do wish you wouldn't be so confoundedly neurotic!
"For goodness' sake, let go my legs!"
Rübub.
[Has risen, and comes in through glass-door, breathing with difficulty; he is a prematurely bald young man of fifty-five, with a harelip, and squints slightly.] I beg pardon, Dr. Herdal, I see I interrupt you. [As Senna rises.] I have just completed this pill. Have you looked at it?
[He offers it for inspection, diffidently.
Dr. Herdal.
[Evasively.] It appears to be a pill of the usual dimensions.
Rübub.
[Cast down.] All these years you have never given me one encouraging word! Can't you praise my pill?