Flora. Who is she? (stands)
Doctor. A patient, Flo—my first—at last!
Flora. (with a sigh of relief) Oh, only that!
Doctor. "Only that!" My dear Flo, a doctor's wife can't afford to be jealous. You'll frighten away all my most paying patients.
Flora. Oh, no, Jack, I won't, (runs and kneels by him) I'll try and look as if I liked them, but I can't help being jealous. My jealousy's only love the wrong side up—that's all.
Doctor. I know it is, and I'm so glad that my first case has come when you were here. You are a mascotte indeed! (stoops and kisses her)
Flora. If I stop, I'm sure lots and lots and lots will come.
Doctor. (not noticing, absorbed in letter) This is the very case I've always been hoping for, and I've got if at last! Just look at the gold crest, and the thick paper. No, don't read it. Oh, it's worth three guineas a week, if it's worth a penny, and it's a three years' job—bar accidents.
Flora. What's she got?
Doctor. Hysterical paraplegia—she's afflicted with all sorts of abnormal fancies and longings.