MELISANDE. Well then, look at yourself in the glass!
(BOBBY goes anxiously to the glass, and then pulls at his clothes.)
BOBBY (looking back at her). Well?
MELISANDE. Well!
BOBBY. I don't see what's wrong.
MELISANDE. Oh, Bobby, everything's wrong. The man to whom I give myself must be not only my lover, but my true knight, my hero, my prince. He must perform deeds of derring-do to win my love. Oh, how can you perform deeds of derring-do in a stupid little suit like that!
BOBBY (looking at it). What's the matter with it? It's what every other fellow wears.
MELISANDE (contemptuously). What every other fellow wears! And you think what every other fellow thinks, and talk what every other fellow talks, and eat what every other—I suppose you didn't like the bread-sauce this evening?
BOBBY (guardedly). Well, not as bread-sauce.
MELISANDE (nodding her head). I thought so, I thought so.