John. Well, that I can’t tell you, but I was really somewhat surprised, and I couldn’t understand where you’d learned all the words from. Perhaps at bottom there isn’t so great a difference between class and class as one thinks.
Julie. Oh, you ought to be ashamed of yourself! We are not like you are, and we have someone whom we love best.
John.[Fixes her with his eyes.] Are you so sure of that? You needn’t make yourself out so innocent, Miss, on my account.
Julie. The man to whom I gave my love was a scoundrel.
John. Girls always say that—afterward.
Julie. Always?
John. Always, I think. I’ve certainly already heard the phrase on several previous occasions, in similar circumstances.
Julie. What circumstances?
John. The last time
Julie. Stop! I won’t hear any more.