THE FELLOW: (The truth suddenly striking him.) Oh-h-h-! I see! You got caught in the shower, too. You borrowed that tailor-made suit from Genevieve.
THE GIRL: Can you doubt it?
THE FELLOW: But the cigarettes?
THE GIRL: I can't account for them. I only know—
THE FELLOW: Never mind. I don't care. (He stuffs the cigarettes into his own pocket and grasps both of her hands in his own.) Tell me—you don't think I'm the biggest liar in the world, do you?
THE GIRL: (Archly.) No—not quite.
THE FELLOW: (Slipping his arm around her.) And if you were married—to—to a fellow like me, you'd make him an awfully good wife, wouldn't you?
THE GIRL: (Laughing.). No—I'd try to make HIM a good husband. (He bends over and is just about to kiss her when a MAN'S VOICE is heard off stage to the Right.)
MAN'S VOICE: (Off stage.) Hey, there, Miss—your trunk has come.
(THE FELLOW and THE GIRL spring apart, guiltily.)
THE FELLOW: (Bitterly.) Just when I had it all cinched. (THE GIRL runs to the bench, picks up her parasol, still laughing.)