Rosen. Of course I did. I always do what you tell me.
Leonarda. You stand there twirling your moustache—and when you do that I always know there is some nonsense going on—.
Rosen. How can you suppose such a thing?
Leonarda. You have never written! Why on earth did that never strike me before?
Rosen. I have written repeatedly, I assure you!
Leonarda. But not to Sherman? You have not reported yourself for service again?
Rosen. Do you remember the Russian cigarettes I have so often spoken of? I have got some now. I brought a few with me to try; may I offer you one?
Leonarda. Are you not ashamed to look me in the face?
Rosen. I do everything you tell me—
Leonarda. You have been putting me off with evasions for more than two months—playing a perfect comedy with me! To think that an officer, who has been through the American war and won honours, rank, and a definite position, could throw away his time in this way—and in other ways too—for a whole year now—