ELFIE. I think Jerry is getting cold feet. He's seeing a little too much of me [Places candy-box on sofa.] nowadays.
LAURA. What makes you think that?
ELFIE. I think he is getting a relapse of that front-row habit. There's no use in talking, Laura, it's a great thing for a girl's credit when a man like Jerry can take two or three friends to the theatre, and when you make your entrance delicately point to you with his forefinger and say, "The third one from the front on the left belongs to muh." The old fool's hanging around some of these musical comedies lately, and I'm getting a little nervous every time rent day comes.
LAURA. Oh, I guess you'll get along all right, Elfie.
ELFIE. [With serene self-satisfaction.] Oh, that's a cinch [Rises; crosses to table, looking in dresser mirror at herself, and giving her hat and hair little touches.], but I like to leave well enough alone, and if I had to make a change right now it would require a whole lot of thought and attention, to say nothing of the inconvenience, and I'm so nicely settled in my flat. [She sees the pianola.] Say, dearie, when did you get the piano-player? I got one of them phonographs [Crosses to pianola, tries the levers, &c.], but this has got that beat a city block. How does it work? What did it cost?
LAURA. I don't know.
ELFIE. Well, Jerry's got to stake me to one of these. [Looks over the rolls on top. Mumbles to herself.] "Tannhauser, William Tell, Chopin." [Then louder.] Listen, dear. Ain't you got anything else except all this high-brow stuff?
LAURA. What do you want?
ELFIE. Oh, something with a regular tune to it [Looks at empty box on pianola.]. Oh, here's one; just watch me tear this off. [The roll is the tune of "Bon-Bon Buddie, My Chocolate Drop." She starts to play and moves the lever marked "Swell" wide open, increases the tempo, and is pumping with all the delight and enthusiasm of a child.] Ain't it grand?
LAURA. Gracious, Elfie, don't play so loud. What's the matter?