LAURA. You do it because you know that fabricated houses are the
coming thing.

KEN. Hell of a chance I'll get at them.

LAURA. There are going to be dozens of firms in the field, and
they'll all want yearly models.

TIPPY. [_Sticking his head in door._] Attention! Sergeant Holden,
go at once to the nearest Commissary and requisition 454 grams of
sucrose.

[KEN _salutes and goes. The girls stare after him._]

KATE. Now what in the _world!_

TIPPY. Sugar, Katie. Sugar.

KATE. But how much?

TIPPY. One pound. He understood. A year in Paris, you know.

LAURA. Oh, I'm so sorry! I forgot sugar.

TIPPY. Sorry? It gives him a chance to buy something.--Your failure
to understand the masculine nature is appalling.

KATE. I'll bet you had sugar.