AMORY: Yes.
GILLESPIE: (Desperately) I've been there. It's in the—the Middle West, isn't it?
AMORY: (Spicily) Approximately. But I always felt that I'd rather be provincial hot-tamale than soup without seasoning.
GILLESPIE: What!
AMORY: Oh, no offense.
(GILLESPIE bows and leaves.)
ROSALIND: He's too much people.
AMORY: I was in love with a people once.
ROSALIND: So?
AMORY: Oh, yes—her name was Isabelle—nothing at all to her except what I read into her.
ROSALIND: What happened?
AMORY: Finally I convinced her that she was smarter than I was—then she threw me over. Said I was critical and impractical, you know.
ROSALIND: What do you mean impractical?
AMORY: Oh—drive a car, but can't change a tire.
ROSALIND: What are you going to do?
AMORY: Can't say—run for President, write—
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