You Can Never Tell

had toothache in my life. Valentine Don’t you find it rather nasty? Crampton I found that most things that were good for me were nasty. But I was taught to put up with them, and made to put up with them. I’m used to it now: in fact, I like the taste when the soap is really good. Valentine Making a wry face in spite of himself. You seem to have been very carefully educated, Mr. Crampton. Crampton Grimly. I wasn’t spoiled, at all events. Valentine Smiling a little to himself. Are you quite sure? Crampton What d’y’ mean? Valentine Well, your teeth are good, I admit. But I’ve seen just as good in very self-indulgent mouths. He goes to the ledge of cabinet and changes the probe for another one. Crampton It’s not the effect on the teeth: it’s the effect on the character. Valentine Placably. Oh, the character, I see. He recommences operations. A little wider, please. Hm! That one will have to come out: it’s past saving. He withdraws the probe and again comes to the side of the chair to converse. Don’t be alarmed: you shan’t feel anything. I’ll give you gas. Crampton Rubbish, man: I want none of your gas. Out with it. People were taught to bear necessary pain in my day. Valentine Oh, if you like being hurt, all right. I’ll hurt you as much as you like, without any extra charge for the beneficial effect on your character. Crampton Rising and glaring at him. Young man: you owe me six weeks’ rent. Valentine I do. Crampton Can you pay me? Valentine No. Crampton Satisfied with his advantage. I thought not. How soon d’y’ think you’ll be able to pay me if you have no better manners than to make game of your patients? He sits down again. Valentine My good sir: my patients haven’t all formed their characters on kitchen soap. Crampton Suddenly gripping him by the arm as he turns away again to the cabinet. So much the worse for them. I tell you you don’t understand my character. If I could spare all my teeth, I’d make you pull them all out one after another to show you what a properly hardened man can go through with when he’s made up his mind to do it. He nods at him to enforce the effect of this declaration, and releases him. Valentine His careless pleasantry quite unruffled. And you want to be more hardened, do you? Crampton Yes. Valentine Strolling away to the bell. Well, you’re quite hard enough for me already⁠—as a landlord. Crampton receives this with a growl of grim humor. Valentine rings the bell, and remarks in a cheerful, casual way, whilst waiting for it to be answered. Why did you never get married, Mr. Crampton? A wife and children would have taken some of the hardness out of you. Crampton With unexpected ferocity. What the devil is that to you? The parlor maid appears at the door. Valentine Politely. Some warm water, please. She retires: and Valentine comes back to the cabinet, not at all put out by Crampton’s rudeness, and carries on the conversation whilst he selects a forceps and places it ready to his hand with a gag and a drinking glass. You were asking me what the devil that was to me. Well, I have an idea of getting married myself. Crampton With grumbling irony. Naturally, sir, naturally. When a young man has come to his last farthing, and is within twenty-four hours of having his furniture distrained upon by his landlord, he marries. I’ve noticed that before. Well, marry; and be miserable. Valentine Oh, come, what do you know about it? Crampton I’m not a bachelor. Valentine Then there is a Mrs. Crampton? Crampton Wincing with a pang of resentment. Yes⁠—damn her! Valentine Unperturbed. Hm! A father, too, perhaps, as well as a husband, Mr. Crampton? Crampton Three children. Valentine Politely. Damn them?⁠—eh? Crampton Jealously. No, sir: the children are as much mine as hers. The parlor maid brings in a jug of hot water. Valentine Thank you. He takes the jug from her, and brings it to the cabinet, continuing in the same idle strain. I really should like to know your family, Mr. Crampton. The parlor maid goes out: and he pours some hot water into the drinking glass. Crampton Sorry I can’t introduce you, sir. I’m happy to say that I don’t know where they are, and don’t care, so long as they keep out of my way. Valentine, with a hitch of his eyebrows and shoulders, drops the forceps with a clink into the glass of hot water. You needn’t warm that thing to use on me. I’m not afraid of the cold steel. Valentine stoops to arrange the gas pump and cylinder beside the chair. What’s that heavy thing? Valentine Oh, never mind. Something to put my foot on, to get the necessary purchase for a good pull. Crampton looks alarmed in spite of himself. Valentine stands upright and places the glass with the forceps in it ready to his hand, chatting on with provoking indifference. And so you advise me not to get married, Mr. Crampton? He stoops to fit the handle on the apparatus by which the chair is raised and lowered. Crampton Irritably. I advise you to get my tooth out and have done reminding me of my wife. Come along, man. He grips the arms of the chair and braces himself. Valentine Pausing, with his hand on the lever, to look up at him and say. What do you bet that I don’t get that tooth out without your feeling it? Crampton Your six week’s rent, young man. Don’t you gammon me. Valentine Jumping at the bet and winding him aloft vigorously. Done! Are you ready? Crampton, who has lost his grip of the chair in his alarm at its sudden ascent, folds his arms: