Charles: Snakes are my life, in a way.
Jean: What a life!
Charles: I suppose it does sound sorta silly. I mean, I suppose I shoulda married and settled down. I imagine my father always wanted me to. As a matter of fact, he's told me so rather plainly. I just never cared for the brewing business.
Jean: Oh, you say that's why you've never married?
Charles: Oh no. It's just I've never met her. I suppose she's around somewhere in the world.
Jean: It would be too bad if you never bumped into each other.
Charles: Well...
Jean: I-I suppose you know what she looks like and everything.
Charles: I-I think so.
Jean: I'll bet she looks like Marguerite in Faust.
Charles: Oh no, she isn't, I mean, she hasn't, she's not as bulky as an opera singer.
Jean: Oh. How are her teeth?
Charles: Hunh?
Jean: Well, you should always pick one out with good teeth. It saves expense later.
Charles: Oh, now you're kidding me.
Jean: Not badly. You have a right to have an ideal. Oh, I guess we all have one.
Charles: What does yours look like?
Jean: He's a little short guy with lots of money.
Charles: Why short?
Jean: What does it matter if he's rich? It's so he'll look up to me. So I'll be his ideal.
Charles: That's a funny kind of reason.
Jean: Well, look who's reasoning. And when he takes me out to dinner, he'll never add up the check and he won't smoke greasy cigars or use grease on his hair. And, oh yes, he, he won't do card tricks.
Charles: Oh.
Jean: Oh, it's not that I mind your doing card tricks, Hopsie. It's just that you naturally wouldn't want your ideal to do card tricks.
Charles: I shouldn't think that kind of ideal was so difficult to find.
Jean: Oh he isn't. That's why he's my ideal. What's the sense of having one if you can't ever find him? Mine is a practical ideal you can find two or three of in every barber shop - getting the works.
Charles: Why don't you marry one of them?
Jean: Why should I marry anybody that looked like that? When I marry, it's gonna be somebody I've never seen before. I mean I won't know what he looks like or where he'll come from of what he'll be. I want him to sort of - take me by surprise.
Charles: Like a burglar.
Jean: That's right. And the night will be heavy with perfume. And I'll hear a step behind me and somebody breathing heavily, and then...[She moans and sighs softly as she stretches back on the chaise] You'd better go to bed, Hopsie. I think I can sleep peacefully now.
Charles: I wish I could say the same.
Jean: Why Hopsie!
Jean: What a life!
Charles: I suppose it does sound sorta silly. I mean, I suppose I shoulda married and settled down. I imagine my father always wanted me to. As a matter of fact, he's told me so rather plainly. I just never cared for the brewing business.
Jean: Oh, you say that's why you've never married?
Charles: Oh no. It's just I've never met her. I suppose she's around somewhere in the world.
Jean: It would be too bad if you never bumped into each other.
Charles: Well...
Jean: I-I suppose you know what she looks like and everything.
Charles: I-I think so.
Jean: I'll bet she looks like Marguerite in Faust.
Charles: Oh no, she isn't, I mean, she hasn't, she's not as bulky as an opera singer.
Jean: Oh. How are her teeth?
Charles: Hunh?
Jean: Well, you should always pick one out with good teeth. It saves expense later.
Charles: Oh, now you're kidding me.
Jean: Not badly. You have a right to have an ideal. Oh, I guess we all have one.
Charles: What does yours look like?
Jean: He's a little short guy with lots of money.
Charles: Why short?
Jean: What does it matter if he's rich? It's so he'll look up to me. So I'll be his ideal.
Charles: That's a funny kind of reason.
Jean: Well, look who's reasoning. And when he takes me out to dinner, he'll never add up the check and he won't smoke greasy cigars or use grease on his hair. And, oh yes, he, he won't do card tricks.
Charles: Oh.
Jean: Oh, it's not that I mind your doing card tricks, Hopsie. It's just that you naturally wouldn't want your ideal to do card tricks.
Charles: I shouldn't think that kind of ideal was so difficult to find.
Jean: Oh he isn't. That's why he's my ideal. What's the sense of having one if you can't ever find him? Mine is a practical ideal you can find two or three of in every barber shop - getting the works.
Charles: Why don't you marry one of them?
Jean: Why should I marry anybody that looked like that? When I marry, it's gonna be somebody I've never seen before. I mean I won't know what he looks like or where he'll come from of what he'll be. I want him to sort of - take me by surprise.
Charles: Like a burglar.
Jean: That's right. And the night will be heavy with perfume. And I'll hear a step behind me and somebody breathing heavily, and then...[She moans and sighs softly as she stretches back on the chaise] You'd better go to bed, Hopsie. I think I can sleep peacefully now.
Charles: I wish I could say the same.
Jean: Why Hopsie!
Charles : Snakes are my life, in a way.
Jean : What a life!
Charles : I suppose it does sound sorta silly. I mean, I suppose I shoulda married and settled down. I imagine my father always wanted me to. As a matter of fact, he's told me so rather plainly. I just never cared for the brewing business.
Jean : Oh, you say that's why you've never married?
Charles : Oh no. It's just I've never met her. I suppose she's around somewhere in the world.
Jean : It would be too bad if you never bumped into each other.
Charles : Well...
Jean : I-I suppose you know what she looks like and everything.
Charles : I-I think so.
Jean : I'll bet she looks like Marguerite in Faust.
Charles : Oh no, she isn't, I mean, she hasn't, she's not as bulky as an opera singer.
Jean : Oh. How are her teeth?
Charles : Hunh?
Jean : Well, you should always pick one out with good teeth. It saves expense later.
Charles : Oh, now you're kidding me.
Jean : Not badly. You have a right to have an ideal. Oh, I guess we all have one.
Charles : What does yours look like?
Jean : He's a little short guy with lots of money.
Charles : Why short?
Jean : What does it matter if he's rich? It's so he'll look up to me. So I'll be his ideal.
Charles : That's a funny kind of reason.
Jean : Well, look who's reasoning. And when he takes me out to dinner, he'll never add up the check and he won't smoke greasy cigars or use grease on his hair. And, oh yes, he, he won't do card tricks.
Charles : Oh.
Jean : Oh, it's not that I mind your doing card tricks, Hopsie. It's just that you naturally wouldn't want your ideal to do card tricks.
Charles : I shouldn't think that kind of ideal was so difficult to find.
Jean : Oh he isn't. That's why he's my ideal. What's the sense of having one if you can't ever find him? Mine is a practical ideal you can find two or three of in every barber shop - getting the works.
Charles : Why don't you marry one of them?
Jean : Why should I marry anybody that looked like that? When I marry, it's gonna be somebody I've never seen before. I mean I won't know what he looks like or where he'll come from of what he'll be. I want him to sort of - take me by surprise.
Charles : Like a burglar.
Jean : That's right. And the night will be heavy with perfume. And I'll hear a step behind me and somebody breathing heavily, and then... [She moans and sighs softly as she stretches back on the chaise] You'd better go to bed, Hopsie. I think I can sleep peacefully now.
Charles : I wish I could say the same.
Jean : Why Hopsie!
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