PARAMORE: Surely you're joking.
MAURY: Have another drink.
PARAMORE: I oughtn't to. (Lowering his voice for MAURY'S ear alone) What if I were to tell you this is the third drink I've ever taken in my life?
(DICK starts the phonograph, which provokes MURIEL to rise and sway from side to side, her elbows against her ribs, her forearms perpendicular to her body and out like fins.)
MURIEL: Oh, let's take up the rugs and dance!
(This suggestion is received by ANTHONY and GLORIA with interior groans and sickly smiles of acquiescence.)
MURIEL: Come on, you lazy-bones. Get up and move the furniture back.
DICK: Wait till I finish my drink.
MAURY: (Intent on his purpose toward PARAMORE) I'll tell you what. Let's each fill one glass, drink it off and then we'll dance.
(A wave of protest which breaks against the rock of MAURY'S insistence.)