Moselle (slips away). Oh, drop the spoons!
Dick. But you dropped my arm.
Moselle. I like freedom.
Dick. Then, why do you run away from me?
Moselle. To catch my breath. Freedom is a virtue. You make it a vice.
Dick. Ah! but remember, I haven't seen you for three months. Think of the lonely hours without you.
Moselle. Think of my lonely hours over those horrid studies,—geography, history, arithmetic! One and one are two.
Dick (again slipping his arm about her waist). No: one and one are one.
Moselle. You're wrong, Dick: one and one are still one and (slips away) one.