Reba
Well—why not? It is fun. We were to be in fancy dress, and I was going as Night. See—(waving her scarf) this is my cloud—and my hair is the moon! I washed it to-day so it would be fluffy. Just see how soft it is!
Philo (touching her hair)
How fine! Will you give me a lock, Reba?
Reba
Oh, yes! Where are your scissors? Here! (Takes scissors from table.) You cut it, Philo. (He takes scissors.) Anywhere. It's curly at the neck and temples.
Philo (cutting lock)
I don't want a curl. (Puts hair carefully in table drawer.) I'm making a new machine and I need long hairs for some of the parts.
Reba (raging)
You sha'n't have it! You sha'n't!