Madden. Ed.
Mix. Uhuh.
Madden. Would you call Florrie a ... a ... well one o' them high-strung girls?
Mix. Gosh, no!
Madden. You don't think she'd be the sort to fly off the handle an' do ... well, somethin' desp'rate?
Mix. Come off. You know's well's I do, Florrie's nothin' but a big jelly fish.
Madden. Ed—I don't want you to talk that way about Florrie. You don't 'preciate her.
Mix. Well, w'at's bitin' you? W'at y' askin' all these questions f'r, anyways?
Madden [dully]. Oh, nothin'.
[Madden looks down uneasily at the bills, but without giving them any real attention. Mix yawns and lazily shifts his position in the armchair.]