JEAN. And a whore a whore!
JULIA. [On her knees, with folded hands] O God in heaven, make an end of this wretched life! Take me out of the filth into which I am sinking! Save me! Save me!
JEAN. I cannot deny that I feel sorry for you. When I was lying among the onions and saw you up there among the roses—I'll tell you now—I had the same nasty thoughts that all boys have.
JULIA. And you who wanted to die for my sake!
JEAN. Among the oats. That was nothing but talk.
JULIA. Lies in other words!
JEAN. [Beginning to feel sleepy] Just about. I think I read the story in a paper, and it was about a chimney-sweep who crawled into a wood-box full of lilacs because a girl had brought suit against him for not supporting her kid-
JULIA. So that's the sort you are—
JEAN. Well, I had to think of something—for it's the high-faluting stuff that the women bite on.
JULIA. Scoundrel!