Dr Abel

It's a wrong... This is taken on an air of serenity and peace.

There are no bustling students or singing co-eds on the streets. All is quiet because final exams are on and the college year is almost over. Dr. William Todd Hunter Hall, President of Ivy, watches his wife, the former Victoria Cromwell of the English Theater, as she sits on the floor of their home covered with travel holders.

Victoria? Yes, Toddy dear? the tower of Pisa the other way for a moment and talk to me. All right. I'll lead it against the Vatican. There. Let's close it for them. Tordy, where would you really like to go this summer?

I would really like to go upstairs, stretch out at full length on my beautiful bed, set the alarm for Labor Day and then not wind the clock. I know you're tired, darling, but you should get away, you know.

some sea breezes or mountain air to flow away the cobwebs? Yes, I know. But A, I don't see how we can afford to go much further than the city limits. B, it will cost too much and C, refer back to A and B.

We've all lovely savings account. My dear girl, don't speak about savings account and the tone of voice which should be reserved for dealings with JP Morgan and company. By banking standards, we possess what would be roughly the working capital of a badly managed free circus.

And it was set aside for a rainy day. Well, we don't have to wait for a cloud burst, do we? I mean, there'll be rain this summer. You're an accesso. Vicky, I'm a major impro of it.