"Let's wait until you have finished to discuss it," she said.

"Is it any good?"

"In spots it's great. In other spots it is incredibly rotten."

"My child," protested the Professor.

"Go on!" she ordered.

The second act began well, mounted halfway to its climax, and fell flat.
Some of the lines, embodying the new individualistic philosophy of
woman, roused the Professor to protest.

"Rubbish, sir!" he cried. "Impossible rubbish! No woman ever thought
such things."

"Take your nose out of your calculus, and look about you, Professor,"
retorted Jarvis. "You haven't looked around since the stone age."

Bambi gurgled with laughter, then looked serious.

"He's fallen on an idea just the same, Jarvis. Your woman isn't
convincing."

"But she's true," he protested.

"We don't care a fig whether she's true, unless she's true to us," she
answered him. "Go on with your last act."