Penelope.
[With a nod and a smile.] I’m never going to bore him with demonstrations of affection. I’m never going to ask him if he loves me. And when he goes out I’m never going to inquire at what time he’ll be back.
Golightly.
[Calmly.] And what will you do when the next pretty little grass-widow throws herself at his head?
Penelope.
[Rather outraged at the mere thought.] I hope he’ll duck and dodge her.
Golightly.
[With a deprecating shrug of the shoulders.] Your mother, from her unrivalled knowledge of heathen races, has told you that man is naturally a polygamous animal.
Mrs. Golightly.
I shall never forgive myself.