"Where are you? Right behind me, of course. Sitting down at the table."
"How do you know?"
"I—I just know."
"Are you sure? Can you be sure?"
"I just saw you there, damnit!"
"But you don't see me here now, unless you have eyes in the back of your head, dear. How do you know I'm still here, unless you see me?"
"Because you didn't get up and go away, that's why. I would have heard you."
"How do you know? Maybe I'm only around when you look at me. When you perceive me, dear. You understand?"
"No. Yes. I read all about the idealists in college, too. Berkeley, Hume...."
"The Qui Dor people say they have the right idea. To be is to be perceived. As soon as you stop perceiving me—or anything—it no longer exists. As soon as you see me again, here I am. If you carry it to extremes, the notion can lead to solipsism, but—"