[Moving her chair back.] Shot them dead?
[Nods.] I never miss, madam.
But how can you possibly shoot people!
I am not speaking of people—
You said your nearest friends—
Well, who should they be but my dogs?
Are your dogs your nearest friends?
I have none nearer. My honest, trusty, absolutely loyal comrades—. When one of them turns sick and miserable—bang!—and there's my friend sent packing—to the other world.
[The SISTER OF MERCY comes out of the hotel with a tray on which
is bread and milk. She places it on the table outside the
pavilion, which she enters.
[Laughs scornfully.] That stuff there—is that what you call food for human beings! Milk and water and soft, clammy bread. Ah, you should see my comrades feeding. Should you like to see it?