[Oh honestly.

Warthrop draws himself to his full height. He is a dour figure, all pale and thin, but he is quite tall all things considered.]

You have my solemn oath that you will see neither hide nor hair of my work here in the parlor or kitchen or wherever else you prefer. I am willing to sign an affidavit to that effect if you require it.

[Lapsing. The proud line of his shoulder sloping back into some portrait of disaffected ambivalence.]

—And no. I expect not.