Golightly.
[Raising his eyebrows.] But do you always ask your husband where he’s been when he comes in?
Penelope.
[Impatiently.] My dear papa, what has that got to do with it? We all know that you’re an old dear, and the greatest mathematician in the world, but you know nothing about life at all.
Golightly.
I apologise again.
Mrs. Golightly.
Give him a sheet of paper and a pencil, Penelope, and he’ll amuse himself by doing sums while we talk the matter out.
Penelope.
[Pushing writing materials over to him.] There you are, papa.