Oh, nothing.
Penelope.
The wife of a fashionable physician has to spend a lot of money on her clothes.
Golightly.
Dickie was lamenting that times were very bad.
Dickie.
What can you expect with this beastly weather! Fine, dry, cold day after day. We haven’t had a fog this autumn. It doesn’t give one a chance. Of course everybody keeps well. Times are getting worse and worse. Everybody has decent drains now. An officious Government gives people pure water. If it weren’t for patent medicines and the malade imaginaire half the doctors in London would starve.
Penelope.
Never mind, Dickie. There may be a motor accident just outside our front door one of these days.
Dickie.