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Lady Margaret Cronin: Forgive me, my dear, but, are you quite well?
Myra Lester: Yes-yes, of course. I had a drink, that's all, it made me feel funny, queer! What's it like in Scotland? I've never been there. It always sounds so quaint, you know, the heather and the peat. Ha-ha. Peat comes from Ireland, doesn't it. I've never been there, either.
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Myra Lester: How have we been living?
Kitty: What difference does it make, as long as we live.
Myra Lester: Where's the money coming from? Where are you getting it?
Kitty: Where do you think I've been getting it? I was trying to keep it from you, but - well, you know now.
Myra Lester: You did it for me.
Kitty: No I didn't! I'd a done it anyhow. C'est La Guerre. No jobs. No boys who want to marry you. Only men who want to kill a few hours, 'cause they know it may be their last.
Extended Reading
