Lavinia: It’s not working. Ship: Just give me a second. Lavinia: It’s like not doing anything. Ship: Maybe that’s because we shouldn’t even be doing this. Lavinia: What do you mean? You’re not enjoying yourself? Ship: No I am enjoying myself. I’m enjoying myself too much. It shouldn’t be like this. It’s totally improper. Lavinia: Yeah. Ship: No, I’m trying to follow etiquette, do it the polite way, but every time I try to give you a simple kiss on the hand, you push me back into bed. I don’t know. Honestly, I’m starting to feel kind of used. Lavinia: Excuse me? Ship: I hate it when women make me feel like this. Like they just want me for my body.
Maggie: What’s the matter dear? Emily: I can’t write. Maggie: Oh blimey, I never thought I’d hear you say that. Emily: Ever since I gave him one of my poems. Maggie: Gave you? Emily: Mr. Bowles. Two weeks ago I submitted. Ugh, that’s an awful word. Submission, like he controls me, like he’s my master. Maggie: Some people get a kick out that sort of thing.