human
Mr. Smith, he said to me, in his thin, high, sarcastic voice--a voice incongruously at variance with his bulk--
gpt
Yes, _I_ have! replied Quint excitedly.
human
I've been in your room. What of it? What about it?
gpt
I want a patent lock put on my door. Will you speak to Professor Farrago?
human
I want one put on mine, too! cried Quint.
gpt
I want a lock put on my door which will keep envious, dull-minded, mentally broken-down, impertinent, and fat people out of my office!
human
Fat? he repeated, glaring at Quint.
gpt
Did you say 'fat?'
human
Yes, fat--intellectually and corporeally fat! I want that kind of individual kept out. I don't trust them. I'm afraid of them. Their minds are atrophied. They are unmoral, possibly even criminal! I don't want them in my room snooping about to see what I have and what I'm doing. I don't want them to sneak in, eaten up with jealousy and envy, and try to damage the eggs of the Silver Moon butterfly because the honour and glory of hatching them would probably procure for me the Carnegie Educational Medal--
gpt
Why, you little, dried-up, protoplasmic atom! burst out Boomly, his face suffused with passion,
human
Are you insinuating that I have any designs on your batch of eggs?
gpt
It's my belief, shouted Quint,
human
If you found an ichneumon fly there, retorted Boomly,
gpt
I now believe, said Quint, trembling with rage,
human
Ha! Ha! retorted Boomly scornfully.
gpt
I don't believe you ever had anything in your breeding-cage except a few clothes moths and cockroaches!
human
You _did_ take them! he yelled;
gpt
Assault your grandmother! remarked Boomly, with unscientific brevity.
human
What do you suppose I want of your ridiculous eggs? Haven't I enough eggs of _Heliconius salome_ hatching to give me the Carnegie medal if I want it?
gpt
The Silver Moon eggs are unique! cried Quint.
human
You know it! You know that if they hatch, pupate, and become perfect insects that I shall certainly be awarded--
gpt
You'll be awarded the Matteawan medal,