Helen Quilley

— Helen, I swear... I'll do anything you want, Helen.
— Will you? In that case, I want you to stand up... walk over to the door... open it... walk through it... then close it behind you.

— I kissed you.
— Yeah, yeah, I spotted that too. You weren't gonna do that.
— Um, hmm... would you mind, um... just putting that down to a momentary lapse of, um, concentration?

— Are you okay?
— Just going quietly mad.
— Thank God for that. I was worried.

Okay, I'll go... I'll go. I was getting a bit choked up with all the testosterone flying about the place. Best I get out before I start growing a penis.