LAURA. I can't tell.

WILL. It's the newspaper man, eh?

LAURA. That would be the only reason.

WILL. You've been on the square with me this summer, haven't you?
[_Crosses to table_.

LAURA. [_Turns, looks at_ WILL.] What do you mean by "on the square?"

WILL. Don't evade. There's only one meaning when I say that, and you
know it. I'm pretty liberal. But you understand where I draw the line.
You've not jumped that, have you, Laura?

LAURA. No, this has been such a wonderful summer, such a wonderfully
different summer. Can you understand what I mean by that when I say
"wonderfully different summer?"

[_Crossing to WILL_.

WILL. Well, he's twenty-seven and broke, and you're twenty-five and
pretty; and he evidently, being a newspaper man, has that peculiar
gift of gab that we call romantic expression. So I guess I'm not
blind, and you both think you've fallen in love. That it?

LAURA. Yes, I think that's about it; only I don't agree to the "gift
of gab" and the "romantic" end of it. [_Crosses to table_.] He's a man
and I'm a woman, and we both have had our experiences. I don't think,
Will, that there can be much of that element of what some folks call