Adam: Professor!
Professor Timothy Stokes: Adam! What is it? You need a doctor!
Adam: No!
Professor Timothy Stokes: I won't even ask you what has happened. Curiosity is a most boring obsession. I'll see that you're taken care of.
Adam: No, no, please.
Professor Timothy Stokes: Heavens! You aren't strong enough to wander around with a wound like that. Do you want to die? Give me the telephone, Adam.
Adam: Not Julia, professor, not Julia.
Professor Timothy Stokes: She is not my resident physician.
Adam: I want to die!
Professor Timothy Stokes: You can be sure that death is no better than life, so don't look forward to it. Hello, Carl? I'm glad to find you there. Stokes here, in rather an emergency. Can you come over immediately? I'm afraid I can't explain. A gunshot wound, I should think. Yes, I know I can rely on your discretion. Good. See you soon.
Adam: You hate me.
Professor Timothy Stokes: Do you really believe that? Don't move. You'll only make it worse.
Adam: No!
Professor Timothy Stokes: Yes, Adam! So, you've learned to turn away. Never to let anyone see you cry. You've become civilized very quickly. Too civilized, perhaps. I'll help you, Adam, whether you want me to or not. You won't die from negligence, anyway, as long as you're in this house. But I think you knew that before you came here.