LOIS: (_Interrupting_) Why didn’t you lock the door?
JULIE: Didn’t I?
LOIS: Of course you didn’t. Do you think I just walked through it?
JULIE: I thought you picked the lock, dearest.
LOIS: You’re _so_ careless.
JULIE: No. I’m happy as a garbage-man’s dog and I’m giving a little
concert.
LOIS: (_Severely_) Grow up!
JULIE: (_Waving a pink arm around the room_) The walls reflect
the sound, you see. That’s why there’s something very beautiful about
singing in a bath-tub. It gives an effect of surpassing loveliness.
Can I render you a selection?
LOIS: I wish you’d hurry out of the tub.
JULIE: (_Shaking her head thoughtfully_) Can’t be hurried. This
is my kingdom at present, Godliness.
LOIS: Why the mellow name?
JULIE: Because you’re next to Cleanliness. Don’t throw anything
please!
LOIS: How long will you be?
JULIE: (_After some consideration_) Not less than fifteen nor
more than twenty-five minutes.
LOIS: As a favor to me will you make it ten?
JULIE: (_Reminiscing_) Oh, Godliness, do you remember a day in
the chill of last January when one Julie, famous for her Easter-rabbit
smile, was going out and there was scarcely any hot water and young
Julie had just filled the tub for her own little self when the wicked
sister came and did bathe herself therein, forcing the young Julie to
perform her ablutions with cold cream--which is expensive and a darn
lot of troubles?
LOIS: (_Impatiently_) Then you won’t hurry?
JULIE: Why should I?
LOIS: I’ve got a date.
JULIE: Here at the house?
LOIS: None of your business.
(JULIE _shrugs the visible tips of her shoulders and stirs the water
into ripples._)
JULIE: So be it.
LOIS: Oh, for Heaven’s sake, yes! I have a date here, at the house--in
a way.
JULIE: In a way?
LOIS: He isn’t coming in. He’s calling for me and we’re walking.
JULIE: (_Raising her eyebrows_) Oh, the plot clears. It’s that
literary Mr. Calkins. I thought you promised mother you wouldn’t
invite him in.
LOIS: (_Desperately_) She’s so idiotic. She detests him because
he’s just got a divorce. Of course she’s had more experience than I
have, but--
JULIE: (_Wisely_) Don’t let her kid you! Experience is the
biggest gold brick in the world. All older people have it for sale.
LOIS: I like him. We talk literature.
JULIE: Oh, so that’s why I’ve noticed all these weighty books around
the house lately.
LOIS: He lends them to me.
JULIE: Well, you’ve got to play his game. When in Rome do as the
Romans would like to do. But I’m through with books. I’m all educated.
LOIS: You’re very inconsistent--last summer you read every day.
JULIE: If I were consistent I’d still be living on warm milk out of a
bottle.
LOIS: Yes, and probably my bottle. But I like Mr. Calkins.
JULIE: I never met him.
LOIS: Well, will you hurry up?
JULIE: Yes. (_After a pause_) I wait till the water gets tepid
and then I let in more hot.
LOIS: (_Sarcastically_) How interesting!
JULIE: ’Member when we used to play “soapo”?
LOIS: Yes--and ten years old. I’m really quite surprised that you
don’t play it still.
JULIE: I do. I’m going to in a minute.
LOIS: Silly game.
JULIE: (_Warmly_) No, it isn’t. It’s good for the nerves. I’ll
bet you’ve forgotten how to play it.
LOIS: (_Defiantly_) No, I haven’t. You--you get the tub all full
of soapsuds and then you get up on the edge and slide down.
JULIE: (_Shaking her head scornfully_) Huh! That’s only part of
it. You’ve got to slide down without touching your hand or feet--
LOIS:(_Impatiently_) Oh, Lord! What do I care? I wish we’d either
stop coming here in the summer or else get a house with two bath-tubs.