I don't mind a prom or a football game, but staying away from advantageous parties to eat in little cafes down-town with Tom, Dick, and Harry-- ROSALIND: (Offering her code, which is, in its way, quite as high as her mother's) Mother, it's done--you can't run everything now the way you did in the early nineties.
MRS.

CONNAGE: (Paying no attention) There are several bachelor friends of your father's that I want you to meet to-night--youngish men.
ROSALIND: (Nodding wisely) About forty-five?
MRS.

CONNAGE: (Sharply) Why not?
ROSALIND: Oh, _quite_ all right--they know life and are so adorably tired looking (shakes her head)--but they _will_ dance.
MRS.

CONNAGE: I haven't met Mr.Blaine--but I don't think you'll care for him.

He doesn't sound like a money-maker.
ROSALIND: Mother, I never _think_ about money.
MRS.