MRS MARCH. Now, Johnny, be sensible. She's a very pretty girl, and this is my house.
JOHNNY. Of course you think the worst. Trust anyone who wasn't in the war for that!
MRS MARCH. I don't think either the better or the worse. Kisses are kisses!
JOHNNY. Mother, you're like the papers—you put in all the vice and leave out all the virtue, and call that human nature. The kiss was an accident that I bitterly regret.
MRS MARCH. Johnny, how can you?
JOHNNY. Dash it! You know what I mean. I regret it with my—my conscience. It shan't occur again.
MRS MARCH. Till next time.
JOHNNY. Mother, you make me despair. You're so matter-of-fact, you never give one credit for a pure ideal.
MRS MARCH. I know where ideals lead.
JOHNNY. Where?