Colonel Craven?

CRAVEN (firing up). That was fair fighting--a very different thing,
Paramore.

PARAMORE. Yes, Martinis and machine guns against naked spearmen.

CRAVEN (hotly). I took my chance with the rest, Dr. Paramore. I risked
my own life: don't forget that.

PARAMORE (with equal spirit). And I have risked mine, as all doctors
do, oftener than any soldier.

CRAVEN. That's true. I didn't think of that. I beg your pardon,
Paramore: I'll never say another word against your profession. But I
hope you'll let me stick to the good old-fashioned shaking up
treatment for my liver--a clinking run across country with the hounds.

PARAMORE (with bitter irony). Isn't that rather cruel--a pack of dogs
ripping up a fox?

JULIA (coming coaxingly between them). Oh, please don't begin arguing
again. Do go to the smoking room, Daddy: Mr. Cuthbertson will wonder
what has become of you.

CRAVEN. Very well, very well: I'll go. But you're really not
reasonable to-day, Paramore, to talk that way of fair sport--

JULIA. Sh--sh (coaxing him toward the door).