Charlotte. I thought you were going to the Republican Convention down at the Auditorium.
Jerry. Well, I am. [But he remembers the b-o-o—.] No, I can’t.
Charlotte. Well, then, for heaven’s sakes don’t spend the evening sitting here and nagging me. I’m nervous enough as it is.
They both sit. She produces a basket of sewing, selects a man’s nightshirt and begins, apparently, to rip it to pieces. Meanwhile Jerry, who has picked up a magazine, regards her out of the corner of his eye. During the first rip he starts to speak, and again during the second rip, but each time he restrains himself with a perceptible effort.
Jerry. What are you tearing that up for?
Charlotte [sarcastically]. Just for fun.
Jerry. Why don’t you tear up one of your own?
Charlotte [exasperated]. Oh, I know what I’m doing. For heaven’s sakes, don’t n-a-a-ag me!
Jerry [feebly]. Well, I just asked you. [A long pause.] Well, I got analyzed to-day.
Charlotte. What?