BETTY. [_Looking fondly at him._] Well, isn't what _I'm_ saying serious?

WALTER. I'm thirty-eight.

BETTY. Yes. I'm only thirty. But I'm not complaining.

WALTER. Has it ever occurred to you--

[_He stops._

BETTY. What?

[WALTER _looks at her--tries to speak, but cannot--then he breaks
away, goes across the room to the fireplace and stands for a
moment looking into the fire. She has remained where she was, her
eyes following him wonderingly. Suddenly he stamps his foot
violently._

WALTER. Damn it! DAMN it!

BETTY. [_Moving towards him in alarm._] What's the matter?

WALTER. [_With a swift turn towards her._] I'm going to get married.

BETTY. [_Stonily, stopping by the round table._] You ...

WALTER. [_Savagely._] Going to get married, yes. Married, married!

[_She stands there and doesn't stir--doesn't speak or try to
speak; merely stands there, and looks at him, giving no sign. Her