Nurse Mudde left. A small man entered. He was five foot five wearing a suit made for a man six foot five. His hands were near-hidden by the sleeve ends, his trouser leg bottoms creased sharply at the shoe tops, assuming the function of unattached spats. The shoes were virtually invisible. As was the gentleman's mouth lurking behind a mustache of mouselike proportions.
DOCTOR J. Won't you have a seat Mr....
SMITH. Smith. (He sits)
DOCTOR J. Now.
(They regard each other)
DOCTOR J. My nurse tells me you made the world.
SMITH. Yes. (In a confessional tone) I did.
DOCTOR J. (Settling back in his chair) All of it?
SMITH. Yes.
DOCTOR J. And everything in it?