HARRIET:
Pardon?
HARRY:
It’s not orange. It’s saffron.
HARRIET:
Oooooooh. Get you Mister Fashionista. [mimicking] It’s not orange, it’s saffron.
[Harry glares at Harriet]
HARRY:
Don’t you need to be somewhere?
[Harry peers down then looks pointedly at Harriet]
HARRIET:
You were here first. You go. Don’t mind me.
HARRY:
First in, last out. You can go. I’m in no rush.
HARRIET:
Age before beauty. Please, don’t let me stop you.
HARRY:
Ladies first.
HARRIET:
I’m no lady.
37