She. Don't you venture defending her! Booby—you don't know live women! When I'm in the right position I can note how she fondles you, pets you like a parrot with her finger-tip, blows a pinch of dust from your eye with her softest breath, holds you off at arm's length and fixes you with her spider look, actually holds you against her cheek—her rose-tinted cheek—before she releases you! If she didn't turn us apart so often, I wouldn't charge her with insinuation; but now I know she loves you—she's as jealous as I am—and poor dead me in her live power! Manikin?
He. Minikin?
She. If you could see me—the way you see her——
He. But I see you—see you always—see only you!
She. If you could see me the way you see her, you'd still love me, you'd love me the way you do her! Who made me what I am? Who dreamed me in motionless clay?
He. Minikin?
She. Manikin?
He. Will you listen to me?
She. No!
He. Will you listen to me?