I’m more myself than I ever was. Take me...

I’m more myself than I ever was. Take me with you, Howard. If you don’t I don’t know what I’ll do with myself. I mean it. Maybe you won’t be back Saturday. Maybe you won’t be back ever again. Then what’s the next thing in store for me? To be nice to the next man, then the next — till there’s no one left to care whether I’m nice to him or not. Till I’m ready for the grave and don’t have anyone to take me there. You can’t let that happen to me, Howard. I won’t let you. You said you were going to marry me, Howard. You said when I got back from my vacation, you’d be waitin’ with the preacher. Where’s the preacher, Howard? Where is he?

Inge, William. Four Plays. Grove Press, New York, NY. 1958. p. 129.