SHE. Well, I never ride in street cars, so I don't care whether they're municipally owned or not. By the way, do you dance?
HE. No.
SHE. You must learn right away. I can't bother to teach you myself, but I know where you can get private lessons and become really good in a month. It is stupid not to be able to dance.
HE. (as if he had tasted quinine) I can see myself doing the tango!
Grr!
SHE. The tango went out long ago, my dear.
HE. (with great decision) Well—I won't learn to dance. You might as well know that to begin with.
SHE. And I won't read your old books on Socialism. You might as well know that to begin with!
HE. Come, come! This will never do. You see, my dear, it's simply that
I can't dance, and there's no use for me to try to learn.
SHE. Anybody can learn. I've made expert dancers out of the awkwardest men!
HE. But, you see, I've no inclination toward dancing. It's out of my world.