Marguerite 'Maggie' King:
Somebody might like it; but, you couldn't be very bright and like trumpet music.
Skid Johnson:
Oh, you may be right. I like it.
Marguerite 'Maggie' King:
You do? Well, what'd you like about it? I can't possibly imagine. It's just noise. You blow a lot of air into a tin horn and it comes out RAT-TAT TAT-TAT. Oh, it's awful.
Skid Johnson:
What's the matter? Don't you like music?
Marguerite 'Maggie' King:
Music? Of course, I like music. But, that isn't music, it's - well, of course, I like music. Violins! That's what I like. Violins. Soft, sweet, romance.
Skid Johnson:
There's no romance in a trumpet?
Marguerite 'Maggie' King:
Romance in a trumpet? Eh!
Skid Johnson:
What you mean is you don't like trumpet.
Marguerite 'Maggie' King:
I don't like trumpet.
[Skid gets up, picks up a trumpet, plays trumpet, Maggie likes it]
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:16