HARRY: Now, Claire, you're going to be gay to-day, aren't you? These are
Tom's last couple of days with us.

CLAIRE: That doesn't make me especially gay.

HARRY: Well, you want him to remember you as yourself, don't you?

CLAIRE: I would like him to. Oh--I would like him to!

HARRY: Then be amusing. That's really you, isn't it, Dick?

DICK: Not quite all of her--I should say.

CLAIRE: (_gaily_) Careful, Dick. Aren't you indiscreet? Harry will be
suspecting that I am your latest strumpet.

HARRY: Claire! What language you use! A person knowing you only by
certain moments could never be made to believe you are a refined woman.

CLAIRE: True, isn't it, Dick?

HARRY: It would be a good deal of a lark to let them listen in at
times--then tell them that here is the flower of New England!

CLAIRE: Well, if this is the flower of New England, then the half has
never been told.

DICK: About New England?