“My dear Algy, you talk exactly as if you were a dentist. It is very vulgar to talk like a dentist when one isn't a dentist. It produces false impression”

“Mr. Herriton, don’t – please, Mr. Herriton – a dentist. His father’s a dentist.” Philip gave a cry of personal disgust and pain. He shuddered all over, and edged away from his companion. A dentist! A dentist at Monteriano. A dentist in fairyland! False teeth and laughing gas and the tilting chair at a place which knew the Etruscan League, and the Pax Romana, and Alaric himself, and the Countess Matilda, and the Middle Ages, all fighting and holiness, and the Renaissance, all fighting and beauty! He thought of Lilia no longer. He was anxious for himself: he feared that Romance might die.”

“Be your own dentist!”

“You need teeth like mine!" Grandma said. "You can just mail 'em to the dentist!”

“Trips to the dentist-I like to postpone that kind of thing.”

“Tell me, ' he continued, 'would it be true that you are an itinerant dentist and that you came on a tricycle?''It would not, ' I replied.'On a patent tandem?''No.'[...]'Then maybe you are no ...dentist at all, ' he said, 'but only a man after a dog licence or papers for a bull?''I did not say I was a dentist, ' I said sharply, 'and I did not say anything about a bull.”