JOHNNY. [Putting his arm round her] Never mind! Cheer up! You're only
a kid. You'll have a good time yet.
FAITH leans against him, as it were indifferently, clearly expecting
him to kiss her, but he doesn't.
FAITH. When I was a little girl I had a cake covered with sugar. I ate
the sugar all off and then I didn't want the cake--not much.
JOHNNY. [Suddenly, removing his arm] Gosh! If I could write a poem that
would show everybody what was in the heart of everybody else--!
FAITH. It'd be too long for the papers, wouldn't it?
JOHNNY. It'd be too strong.
FAITH. Besides, you don't know.
Her eyelids go up.
JOHNNY. [Staring at her] I could tell what's in you now.
FAITH. What?
JOHNNY. You feel like a flower that's been picked.
FAITH's smile is enigmatic.
FAITH. [Suddenly] Why do you go on about me so?
JOHNNY. Because you're weak--little and weak. [Breaking out again] Damn
it! We went into the war to save the little and weak; at least we said
so; and look at us now! The bottom's out of all that. [Bitterly] There
isn't a faith or an illusion left. Look here! I want to help you.
FAITH. [Surprisingly] My baby was little and weak.
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