Charlotte. That’s the sort of man he is.
Doris. He’d never be rich if you gave him the money. He hasn’t got any push. I think a man’s got to have push, don’t you? I mean sort of uh! [She gives a little grunt to express indomitable energy, and makes a sharp gesture with her hand.] I saw in the paper about a fella that didn’t have any legs or arms forty years old that was a millionaire.
Charlotte. Maybe if Jerry didn’t have any legs or arms he’d do better. How did this fella make it?
Doris. I forget. Some scheme. He just thought of a scheme. That’s the thing, you know—to think of some scheme. Some kind of cold cream or hair—say, I wish somebody’d invent some kind of henna that nobody could tell. Maybe Jerry could.
Charlotte. He hasn’t brains enough.
Doris. Say, I saw a wonderful dog to-day.
Charlotte. What kind of a dog?
Doris. It was out walking with Mrs. Richard Barton Hammond on Crest Avenue. It was pink.
Charlotte. Pink! I never saw a pink dog.
Doris. Neither did I before. Gosh, it was cunning.... Well, I got to go. My fiancé is coming over at quarter to nine and we’re going down to the theatre.