The Young Man: What color are you wearing?
Julie: (After a critical survey of her shoulders) Why, I guess it’s a sort of pinkish white.
The Young Man: Is it becoming to you?
Julie: Very. It’s—it’s old. I’ve had it for a long while.
The Young Man: I thought you hated old clothes.
Julie: I do but this was a birthday present and I sort of have to wear it.
The Young Man: Pinkish-white. Well I’ll bet it’s divine. Is it in style?
Julie: Quite. It’s very simple, standard model.
The Young Man: What a voice you have! How it echoes! Sometimes I shut my eyes and seem to see you in a far desert island calling for me. And I plunge toward you through the surf, hearing you call as you stand there, water stretching on both sides of you—
(The soap slips from the side of the tub and splashes in. The young man blinks)