(ROSALIND doesn't answer.) Dawson Ryder is more patient than I thought he'd be.

You haven't given him an evening this week.
ROSALIND: (With a very weary expression that is quite new to her face.) Mother--please-- MRS.

CONNAGE: Oh, _I_ won't interfere.

You've already wasted over two months on a theoretical genius who hasn't a penny to his name, but _go_ ahead, waste your life on him.

_I_ won't interfere.
ROSALIND: (As if repeating a tiresome lesson) You know he has a little income--and you know he's earning thirty-five dollars a week in advertising-- MRS.