"What in the world would I do with a gun?" Marc asked.
"It would give weight to your argument," Toffee said. "These Latin lovers expect jealous husbands to carry guns."
"I am not jealous," Marc said stiffly, "I'm just worried, that's all."
"In that case," Toffee said, "why don't we just wait here until they get back? We could join the party in the cellar."
"It's this spring-time daffiness that really upsets me," Marc said. "Everyone seems out of control."
"Look," Toffee said, "if they went to the woods in that direction, why don't we go to them in the other direction and let Julie do the worrying for a change. Fair's fair, isn't it?"
"How could that possibly worry Julie," Marc asked. "She wouldn't even know we were there."
"That's right," Toffee said evilly, "she wouldn't, would she?"
"Unprincipled little trollop," Marc said.
"Unprincipled to the bone," Toffee agreed. She sighed. "But what good does it do me?"