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Helen—John!

John—(From below) Helen, can I see you a moment?

Helen—No, indeed. There are people all over the house. Mother would think I had gone mad if she saw us talking out of the window.

John—(Hopefully) I’ll climb up.

Helen—John, don’t. You’ll tear your dress clothes. (He is evidently making good, as deduced from a few muttered fragments, barely audible.) Look out for the spike by the ledge. (A moment later he appears in the window, a young man of twenty-two, good-looking, but at present not particularly cheerful.)

Helen—(Sitting down) You simple boy! Do you want the family to kill me? Do you realize how conspicuous you are?

John—(Hopefully) I’d better come in.

Helen—No, you had better not. Mother may be up at any moment.

John—Better turn out the lights. I make a good movie standing like this on this ledge.

Helen hesitates and then turns out all the lights except an electric lamp on the dresser.

Helen—(Assuming an effective pose in the arm chair) What on earth do you want?

John—I want you. I want to know that you are mine when I see you dancing around with this crowd tonight.