—You know I’ve been thinking: women ought to come capsule-size about four-inches high. When a man goes out in the evening, he just puts her in his pocket and takes her along with him and that way he knows exactly where she is. He gets to his favorite restaurant, he puts her on the table and lets her run around among the coffee cups while he swaps a few lies with his pals. Without danger of interruption. When comes that time in the evening when he wants her full-size and beautiful, he just waves his hand and there she is, full-size.
—That’s the most conceited statement I’ve ever heard.
—If she starts to interrupt, he just shrinks her back to pocket-size and puts her away.
