[with a humorous expression he brings a whole pad of telegraph blanks out of another pocket]
Carry them with me nowadays. [Begins to write.] Wish I hadn't sold my Western Union, John.
John
I don't believe you want that divorce very much.
Judge
It doesn't matter what I want—what she wants is the point. You must give the woman you marry tutti-frutti, divorces—everything.... Why, I've got the habit myself, and God knows I don't enjoy sacrifice—I'm a man! The superior sex!
John
I don't believe you appreciate that wife of yours.
Judge
[between the words he's writing]