[Abashed, yet a bit boastfully.] Do you know what I’m doing—I’m flirting with him.
JULIE
Flirting?
MARIE
Yes. He asks me to go to the park—and I say I can’t go. Then he coaxes me, and promises me a new scarf for my head if I go. But I don’t go—even then. . . . So then he walks all the way home with me—and I bid him good-night at the door.
JULIE
Is that what you call flirting?
MARIE
Um-hm! It’s sinful, but it’s so thrilling.
JULIE