Penelope.
Oh, no, we’re not on speaking terms at present.
Golightly.
Ah, I suppose you express your mutual affection in dumb show.
Penelope.
He went out immediately after you left last night, and didn’t come home till past twelve. I heard him stop at my door, so I huddled myself under the bed-clothes and pretended to be fast asleep, but I just let my hand drop carelessly over one side of the bed. Then he gave a tiny little knock, and as I didn’t answer he came in, and he crept up on tip-toe, and he looked at me as if—as if he’d like to eat me up.
Golightly.
Penelope, you’re romancing. How on earth could you know that?
Penelope.
[Putting her finger at the back of her head.] I saw him through the back of my head—there. And then he bent down and just touched my hand with his lips. [Showing her hand to Golightly.] Look, that’s where he kissed it—just on the knuckle.