I was an idiot.
LAURA. Such a charming idiot.
MARTIN. Looks as if you maybe like that fellow.
LAURA. Mm. A little bit.
KEN. She won't admit it, but she likes me a lot.
MARTIN. I'll be hanged if I see why.
LAURA. It's a mystery to me, too.
TIPPY. And after all this time!
LAURA. It's queer, isn't it? Often I look at him and I say why, out
of all the millions of men--handsome men, brilliant men, wealthy
men--did I fall in love with him?
MARTIN. And when you might have had me!
TIPPY. [_With a terrible yowl._] Oh, sweet mystery of life ...
KEN. My God!
TIPPY. I won't even ask how things are! You look so damned all
right.
LAURA. On two salaries and no babies, who wouldn't? May I lend you
the price of a rented Tuxedo so you can come to dinner without
embarrassing our butler?
KEN. Yeah--when we get the bedroom set paid for we're going to
exchange the radio for a Cadillac.
LAURA. Oh, Martin! If you have any original drawings unsold, just
name your price. All we have on the walls now is the Horse Fair and
the Last Supper. But mind you--art only, no propaganda.
MARTIN. I'll do a charcoal of the Palisades for you.
LAURA. I forbid it. They're an invitation to suicide.
TIPPY. He'll draw the Palisades from the bottom looking up. That's
an invitation to climb.
KEN. There's a lot in the point of view!
LAURA. Good! Climbing is much more fun than jumping off!
KEN.
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