your moods tell me, and I'll try to understand the last one.

She. Moods, Guy! I haven't any. I'm sixteen years old and you're
just twenty, and you've been waiting for two hours outside the
school in the cold. And now I've met you, and now we're walking
home together. Does that suit you, My Imperial Majesty?

He. No. We aren't children. Why can't you be rational?

She. He asks me that when I'm going to commit suicide for his
sake, and, and I don't want to be French and rave about my mother,
but have I ever told you that I have a mother, and a brother who
was my pet before I married? He's married now. Can't you imagine
the pleasure that the news of the elopement will give him? Have
you any people at Home, Guy, to be pleased with your
performances?

He. One or two. One can't make omelets without breaking eggs.

She (slowly). I don't see the necessity

He. Hah! What do you mean?

She. Shall I speak the truth?

He Under the circumstances, perhaps it would be as well.

She. Guy, I'm afraid.

He I thought we'd settled all that. What of?