MURRAY (frowning). Maybe, in their own way. But what's love without a glimmer of understanding—a nuisance! They have never seen the real me and never have wanted to—that's all.
EILEEN (as if to herself). What is—the real you?(Murray kicks at the stones impatiently without answering. Eileen hastens to change the subject.) And then you'll go to New York?
MURRAY (interested, at once). Yes. You bet.
EILEEN. And write more?
