"Yes," said Ferdy, triumphantly, and rubbing his hands. "Ah, you didn't think I'd say that, did you?"
"I expected to hear anything, so long as it was sufficiently silly," said Clarice, in her coldest tone. "Really, Ferdy, you are a child."
"You won't find it so when I take my own way."
"What is your own way?"
"I have told you. I am engaged to Zara, and I intend to marry her, now that Prudence has behaved so badly. If you refuse to allow me money, I'll chuck the medical profession and go on the stage to act with Zara in her Butterfly sketch at the Mascot Music Hall. She isn't satisfied with the Chrysalis, and I can act that."
"Act what?" asked Clarice, puzzled by the scientific word.
"The Chrysalis. In the sketch--it is called the Birth of a Butterfly--there's a Chrysalis, acted by a man, which wriggles about the stage. Out of it comes Zara as the Butterfly, and----"
"Oh, I understand. What a high ambition you have. I should think a worm of that acrobatic kind would just suit you. So this is your plan, is it?"
"Yes. I came down especially to tell you."
"What does Dr. Jerce say?"