First Genius to Second Genius. “Why on Earth do you do your Hair in that absurd Fashion, Smith?”
“Oi tell yez Oi will not clane out me Cell. Oi’d lave the Jail furrst!”
Small Voice from under the Bed. “No, I will not come out! I tell you, once and for all.”
Bernesia. “I will be Master in my own House!”
Photographer. “I think this is an excellent Portrait of your Wife.”
Mr. Smallweed. “I don’t know—sort of repose about the mouth that somehow doesn’t seem right”