PLAYER: (Confidingly.) Now for a handful of guilders I happen to have a private and uncut performance of The Rape of the Sabine Women-or rather woman, or rather Alfred-(Over his shoulder.) Get your skirt on, Alfred-
***
GUIL: Maidens aspiring to godheads-
ROS: And vice versa-
***
GUIL: (Rapidly.) Has it ever happened to you that all of a sudden and for no reason at all you haven't the faintest idea how to spell the word-"wife"-or "house"-because when you write it down you just can't remember ever having seen those letters in that order before...?
***
GUIL: What's the last thing you remember?
ROS: I don't wish to be reminded of it.
GUIL: We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.
***
PLAYER: Do you call that an ending?-with practically everyone on his feet? My goodness no-over your dead body.
GUIL: How am I supposed to take that?
PLAYER: Lying down. (He laughs briefly and in a second has never laughed in his life.)
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