ANNABELLE. (sadly) No you're not.
JIMMY. (angrily) But I tell you I am!
ANNABELLE. No. . . .
JIMMY. Foolish child!
ANNABELLE. Well, let's not quarrel about it. We'll talk about something else.
JIMMY. (vehemently) What do you suppose this insanity is if it is not love? What do you imagine leads me to this preposterous escapade, if not that preposterous passion?
ANNABELLE. That isn't the way I love you.
JIMMY. Then why do you come with me?
ANNABELLE. Perhaps I'm not coming.
JIMMY. Yes you are. It's foolish—mad—wicked—but you're coming. (She begins to cry softly.) If not—ten minutes away is safety and peace and comfort. Shall I call a taxi for you? (She shakes her head.) No, I thought not. Oh, it's love all right. . . . Antony and Cleopatra defying the Mann Act! Romance! Beauty! Adventure! How can you doubt it?