Her First Affaire

Brian: Now, who do you love? Carey Merton or me?

Anne: I've never met Carey Merton...

Brian: Then it must be me.

Anne: I bet he's fascinating.

Brian: I bet he's potty!

Anne: I bet he knows how to make love.

Brian: Meaning, I don't?

Anne: Oh, you're not bad, for an amateur.

Brian: I suppose he's a professional?

Anne: Of the highest rank.

Brian: Hmm. Rank is right!

Anne: You should read some of his books and learn some new ideas.

Brian: 'haven't learnt all the old ones yet.

Anne: Oh, strange. Didn't your granny teach you?

Brian: I scarcely remember.

Anne: Dear me, I thought you were quite old friends. I always think of you as grandma's boy.

Brian: Just the same, you love me.

Anne: Do I?

Brian: You wouldn't promise to marry me, if you didn't.

Anne: Well, marriage is a little old-fashioned, isn't it?

Brian: Is that what Carey Merton thinks?

Anne: He understands.

Brian: What?

Anne: Me. Every woman.

Brian: Now you're talking absolute rot.

Anne: You approve of convention, of course? A man can be free but a woman must be chained. Well, Carey Merton thinks differently. He isn't stuffy.

Brian: He ought to be horse-whipped! And you ought to be spanked.

Anne: Brian!

Brian: I'm sorry, Ann.

[grabbing her book]

Brian: But somehow this old fossil infuriated me.

Anne: If he were old, he couldn't write so beautifully.

Brian: If he were young, he wouldn't write so disgustingly.

Anne: We'll settle this, Brian.

Brian: How?

Anne: We'll call on him and find out.