My disease--

CRAVEN (quickly). Do you mean my disease?

PARAMORE (fiercely). I mean my disease--Paramore's disease--the
disease I discovered--the work of my life. Look here (pointing to the
B. M. J. with a ghastly expression of horror.) If this is true, it was
all a mistake: there is no such disease. (Cuthbertson and Julia look
at one another, hardly daring to believe the good news.)

CRAVEN (in strong remonstrance). And you call this bad news! Now
really, Paramore--

PARAMORE (cutting him short hoarsely). It's natural for you to think
only of yourself. I don't blame you: all invalids are selfish. Only a
scientific man can feel what I feel now. (Writhing under a sense of
intolerable injustice.) It's the fault of the wickedly sentimental
laws of this country. I was not able to make experiments enough--only
three dogs and a monkey. Think of that, with all Europe full of my
professional rivals--men burning to prove me wrong! There is freedom
in France--enlightened republican France. One Frenchman experiments on
two hundred monkeys to disprove my theory. Another sacrifices 36
pounds--three hundred dogs at three francs apiece--to upset the monkey
experiments. A third proves them to be both wrong by a single
experiment in which he gets the temperature of a camel's liver 60
degrees below zero. And now comes this cursed Italian who has ruined
me. He has a government grant to buy animals with, besides the run of
the largest hospital in Italy. (With desperate resolution) But I won't
be beaten by any Italian. I'll go to Italy myself. I'll re-discover my
disease: I know it exists; I feel it; and I'll prove it if I have to