CULVER. I don't know. ( With meaning .) Think what the sagacious Sampson Straight would do, and do that.
(Hildegarde gives a sharp look first at Culver, and then at Tranto, and exit, back .)
CULVER ( turning to Tranto). My dear fellow, the war is practically over.
TRANTO. Good heavens! There was nothing on the tape when I left the Club.
CULVER. Oh! I don't mean your war. I mean the twenty-two years' war.
TRANTO. The twenty-two years' war?
CULVER. My married life. Over! Finished! Napoo!
TRANTO. Do you know what you're saying?
CULVER. Look here, Tranto. You and I don't belong to the same generation. In fact, if I'd started early enough I might have been your father. But we got so damned intimate last night, and I'm in such a damned hole, and you're so damned wise, that I feel I must talk to you. Not that it'll be any use.