SHE: (Emphatically) My dear boy, the war is over.

HE: So I'll always be afraid of you.

SHE: (Rather sadly) I suppose you will.

(A slight hesitation on both their parts.) HE: (After due consideration) Listen. This is a frightful thing to ask.

SHE: (Knowing what's coming) After five minutes.

HE: But will you--kiss me? Or are you afraid?

SHE: I'm never afraid--but your reasons are so poor.

HE: Rosalind, I really want to kiss you.

SHE: So do I.

(They kiss--definitely and thoroughly.) HE: (After a breathless second) Well, is your curiosity satisfied?

SHE: Is yours?

HE: No, it's only aroused.

(He looks it.) SHE: (Dreamily) I've kissed dozens of men. I suppose I'll kiss dozens more.

HE: (Abstractedly) Yes, I suppose you could--like that.

SHE: Most people like the way I kiss.

HE: (Remembering himself) Good Lord, yes. Kiss me once more, Rosalind.

SHE: No--my curiosity is generally satisfied at one.

HE: (Discouraged) Is that a rule?

SHE: I make rules to fit the cases.

HE: You and I are somewhat alike--except that I'm years older in experience.

SHE: How old are you?

HE: Almost twenty-three. You?

SHE: Nineteen--just.

HE: I suppose you're the product of a fashionable school.

SHE: No--I'm fairly raw material. I was expelled from Spence--I've forgotten why.

HE: What's your general trend?

SHE: Oh, I'm bright, quite selfish, emotional when aroused, fond of admiration-HE: (Suddenly) I don't want to fall in love with you-SHE: (Raising her eyebrows) Nobody asked you to.

HE: (Continuing coldly) But I probably will. I love your mouth.

SHE: Hush! Please don't fall in love with my mouth--hair, eyes, shoulders, slippers--but not my mouth. Everybody falls in love with my mouth.

HE: It's quite beautiful.

SHE: It's too small.

HE: No it isn't--let's see.

(He kisses her again with the same thoroughness.) SHE: (Rather moved) Say something sweet.

HE: (Frightened) Lord help me.

SHE: (Drawing away) Well, don't--if it's so hard.

HE: Shall we pretend? So soon?

SHE: We haven't the same standards of time as other people.

HE: Already it's--other people.

SHE: Let's pretend.

HE: No--I can't--it's sentiment.

SHE: You're not sentimental?

HE: No, I'm romantic--a sentimental person thinks things will last--a romantic person hopes against hope that they won't. Sentiment is emotional.

SHE: And you're not? (With her eyes half-closed.) You probably flatter yourself that that's a superior attitude.

HE: Well--Rosalind, Rosalind, don't argue--kiss me again.

SHE: (Quite chilly now) No--I have no desire to kiss you.

HE: (Openly taken aback) You wanted to kiss me a minute ago.

SHE: This is now.

HE: I'd better go.

SHE: I suppose so.

(He goes toward the door.) SHE: Oh!




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