“I don’t recognize them,” says Al, about his children. “They’ve grown so old.”
“I’ve tried to stop them,” says Millie. “to keep them just as they were when you left, but they got away from me!”
Al pauses, and looks at a book shelf. “I guess, uh, Peggy has a lot of boyfriends,” says Al.
“She’s very popular,” says Millie.
“She concentrating on anyone in particular?” asks Al.
“She hasn’t told me of anyone,” says Millie.
“But you’ve told her, uh, of all the things she ought to know?” asks Al.
“What, for instance?” asks Millie, feigning innocence.
“Well, have you?” asks Al.
“She’s worked two years in a hospital,” says Millie. “She knows more than you or I ever will.”
Al puts a cigarette in his mouth, and offers Millie one.
“You’ve forgotten that-” begins Millie.