Yes. Success or failure: it’s all a matter of how you dream. (She looks up puzzled: he is silent a moment and then goes to machine again.) But I’ll never get this done.
Jerry
I’ll put on my old wrapper, for the last time, and wait up for you. I’m going to get a real négligée to-morrow. Your favorite color.
Grant
I won’t be long. This is an awful bore and I’m tired.
(He begins to pound out something on his machine. Jerry goes over to hang up his coat, and as she does so, a newspaper clipping falls out of his pocket, on the floor. She picks it up unnoticed by Grant. She glances at it; starts angrily to speak to Grant about it; but seeing he is absorbed, hesitates and then conceals it. She hangs up the coat, comes around back of him as though to speak—but changes her mind. She kisses him. As she passes the table, she knocks off the manuscript of a play. She picks it up.)
Grant
What’s that?
Jerry