Whenever the Nervii got nervy
He gave them an awful razz
They shook is their shoes
With the Consular blues
The Imperial Roman Jazz
(_During the wild applause that follows_ JULIE _modestly moves
her arms and makes waves on the surface of the water--at least we
suppose she does. Then the door on the left opens and_ LOIS MARVIS
_enters, dressed but carrying garments and towels._ LOIS _is a
year older than_ JULIE _and is nearly her double in face and
voice, but in her clothes and expression are the marks of the
conservative. Yes, you've guessed it. Mistaken identity is the old
rusty pivot upon which the plot turns._)
LOIS: (_Starting_) Oh, 'scuse me. I didn't know you were here.
JULIE: Oh, hello. I'm giving a little concert--
LOIS: (_Interrupting_) Why didn't you lock the door?
JULIE: Didn't I?
LOIS: Of course you didn't. Do you think I just walked through it?
JULIE: I thought you picked the lock, dearest.
LOIS: You're _so_ careless.
JULIE: No. I'm happy as a garbage-man's dog and I'm giving a little
concert.
LOIS: (_Severely_) Grow up!
JULIE: (_Waving a pink arm around the room_) The walls reflect
the sound, you see. That's why there's something very beautiful about
singing in a bath-tub. It gives an effect of surpassing loveliness.
Can I render you a selection?
LOIS: I wish you'd hurry out of the tub.
JULIE: (_Shaking her head thoughtfully_) Can't be hurried.
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