Frank—What’s the matter, Alice?
Alice—I’m mad.
Frank—So I see. What about?
Alice—(looking up) What are you mad about, yourself? You look like a thunder cloud.
Frank—I’m not mad.
Alice—Yes, you are, too. I know. (gets up) What is the matter, truly?
Frank—(crossly) Nothing, I tell you. What were you screeching so for?
Alice—’Cause I was mad, I tell you.
Frank—What for?
Alice—Say, I’ll tell you what I was mad at, if you will, too. Will you?