LEONARD. No, you know the one I mean. How does it begin?... “O woman, in our hours of ease——”
NICHOLAS. “Uncertain, coy and hard to please.”
LEONARD. That’s it. Well, I grant you that——
NICHOLAS. Grant it me! I should think you do! They throw it at you with both hands.
LEONARD. But in the next two lines he misses the point altogether. When—what is it?—“When pain and anguish wring the brow——”
NICHOLAS (with feeling). “A ministering angel thou.”
LEONARD. Yes, and it’s a lie. It’s simply a lie.
NICHOLAS. My dear fellow, it’s the truest thing anybody ever said. Only—only one gets too much of it.
LEONARD. True? Nonsense!
NICHOLAS. Evidently you don’t know anything about women.