The Sub-Deb
The time is in the evening of any day in any month in any year. The place is the front room of an apartment in 52nd Street, New York, the library of a house in 68th Street, the ball-room of the Ritz-Royce, a limousine outside the Country Club in Louisville, the Princeton campus, anywhere else you choose.
Enter Rosalind—kissable mouth, other details unnecessary. Enter to her Anthony Blaine.
He: Will you kiss me?
She: Sure!
(They kiss—definitely and thoroughly—in a most workmanlike manner.)
He: Did you ever kiss anyone before?
She: (Dreamily) Dozens, hundreds, thousands of boys.
He: Kiss me again.
(They kiss.)