Lois: (Starting) Oh, 'scuse me. I didn't know you were here.
Julie: Oh, hello. I'm giving a little concert
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 trouble?
