DOROTHY: It sounds so far. It sounds—uncivilized.

YOUNG MAN: It is uncivilized, but it isn’t far.

DOROTHY: How would I get out there? What means of transportation?

YOUNG MAN: Borrow your kid brother’s bike.

DOROTHY: Tonight’s Scout meeting night; he wouldn’t let me.

YOUNG MAN: Then walk, it wouldn’t kill you!

DOROTHY: How do you know? It might. I come from Boston.

YOUNG MAN: Listen, lady. Boston’s a state of mind that you’ll grow out of.

DOROTHY: Not without some insulin shock treatments.

YOUNG MAN: Stop evading! Will you or will you not?

DOROTHY: I’ve got so much to do. I have to return some books to the public library.

YOUNG MAN: Just one more time—will you or will you not?

DOROTHY: I can’t give definite answers—I’m from Boston!

YOUNG MAN: Just one more mention of Boston’s apt to be fatal! Well, Miss Simple? I can’t wait forever!

DOROTHY: I guess I—might.

YOUNG MAN: You guess you might?

DOROTHY: I mean I guess I will.

YOUNG MAN: You guess you will?

DOROTHY: I mean I will—I will!

YOUNG MAN: That’s better. —So long, Dorothy. [He grins and goes out, slamming door.]

DOROTHY: Goodbye. [She stares dreamily into space for a moment. Mrs. Dull comes in.]

MRS. DULL [sharply]: Miss Simple!

DOROTHY: Oh! Excuse me. What do you want?

MRS. DULL: I want a pair of wine-colored socks for my husband.

DOROTHY: I’m terribly sorry but the only pair in stock has been reserved.

MRS. DULL: Reserved for whom, Miss Simple?

DOROTHY: A gentleman who represents this line. [Showing the card.]

MRS. DULL: Life, Incorporated? Huh, I never heard of it.

DOROTHY: Neither had I before. But now I have. And tomorrow the store will be closed for extensive alterations.

MRS. DULL: Alterations of what kind, Miss Simple?

DOROTHY: I’m going to knock out all four walls.

MRS. DULL: Knock out—what—? Incredible!

DOROTHY: Yes, to accommodate some brand-new merchandise. Things I never kept in stock before.

MRS. DULL: What kind of things? Things in bottles, Miss Simple, or things in boxes?

DOROTHY: Neither one nor the other, Mrs. Dull.

MRS. DULL: But everything comes in bottles or in boxes.

DOROTHY: Everything but Life, Incorporated.

MRS. DULL: What does it come in, then?

DOROTHY: I’m not sure yet. But I suspect it’s something unconfined, something wild and open as the sky is! —Also I’m going to change the name of the store. It isn’t going to be SIMPLE NOTIONS any more, it’s going to be TREMENDOUS INSPIRATIONS!

MRS. DULL: Gracious! In that case you’ll certainly lose my custom.

DOROTHY: I rather expected to.

MRS. DULL: And you’re not sorry?

DOROTHY: Not the least bit sorry. I think I caught a slight skin rash from dealing with your silver. Also you sniff too much. You ought to blow your nose. Or better still, you ought to trim it down. I’ve often wondered how you get your nose through traffic. [Mrs. Dull gasps, looks desperately about her, rushes out.] You forgot your groceries, Mrs. Dull! [Heaves them out the door. There is a loud impact and a sharp outcry. Music up.] Officer?—Officer!