Lionel : You and I have lurched happily through eighteen months of marriage.
Jean : No, nineteen.
Lionel : Nineteen months, without either of us having reached for the carving knife.
Jean : I threw some carrots at you once.
Lionel : That's not really in the same category, is it?
[first lines]
Jean : [washing dishes as the doorbell rings] Oh, will somebody get that? I'm in the sink.
Lionel : You're not in the sink at all.
Jean : Just open the door, will you?
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