SHE: Nineteen—just.
HE: I suppose you’re the product of a fashionable school.
SHE: No—I’m fairly raw material. I was expelled from Spence—I’ve forgotten why.
HE: What’s your general trend?
SHE: Oh, I’m bright, quite selfish, emotional when aroused, fond of admiration—
HE: (Suddenly) I don’t want to fall in love with you—
SHE: (Raising her eyebrows) Nobody asked you to.
HE: (Continuing coldly) But I probably will. I love your mouth.
SHE: Hush! Please don’t fall in love with my mouth—hair, eyes, shoulders, slippers—but not my mouth. Everybody falls in love with my mouth.
HE: It’s quite beautiful.