FRED: (Recognizing her.) What are you doing here?
ANGELA: (Forced to confess.) I've left my husband. (He gives a whistle of surprise.) You know he's the man on the floor below—you may have seen me with him—once in a great while.
FRED: I've seen you often (Delighted.)—and so you've left him, eh?
ANGELA: Yes—and I'm really quite upset about it—naturally he's the first husband I've ever left—and you can imagine how a woman feels if you've left your husband—that is your wife. (All in one breath.) Are you married?
FRED: No indeed—not a chance.
ANGELA: (Quickly fishes her opera cloak off couch—slips it over her and goes to couch.) Then come here and sit down. (He does so.) I should think the girls would all be crazy about you.
FRED: Oh—they are—are you boarding here too now?
ANGELA: Yes, but Miss Carey doesn't know it yet.
FRED: Tell me, have you ever noticed me coming in or going out of the building?
ANGELA: Oh yes, indeed—I used to point you out to Harry and show him how you always looked so immaculate and dapper—just as he used to look before we were married. (Starting to weep.)