Baroness. Not a costumiere, Mr. Pendleton, I am an artist, an artist in modern attire. A woman is to me what a canvas is to a painter.
Pendleton. Excuse me for receiving you in my dressing gown. I was at work.
Baroness. I like to see men in dressing gowns—yours is charming.
Pendleton [flattered and pleased]. Do you like it? I designed it myself.
Baroness [looking seductively into his eyes]. How few really creative artists there are in America.
Pendleton [modestly]. You flatter me.
Baroness. Not at all. You must know that I'm a great admirer of yours, Mr. Pendleton. I've read every one of your books. I feel I know you as an old friend.
Pendleton. That's very nice of you!
[The Baroness reclines on couch; takes jeweled cigarette case from reticule and offers Pendleton a cigarette.]
Baroness. Will you smoke?