HELEN: Charming you’re such an Epicure.
HAROLD: Life is more than what you can consume, Helen.
HELEN: I’m not so sure.
(Helen takes a box of cookies out of her purse and eat every cookie in the box, one by one. She dips them in her coffee. She makes indecent enjoyment noises. She licks her fingers and her lips, not just at the end of it all, but throughout. She drops a crumb on her lap; she eats that, too. She drinks down all her coffee and runs a finger around the inside of the nearly empty ceramic, picking up the last coffee-soaked crumbs of cookie and licking them off. She smacks her lips.)
HAROLD: Charming you’re such an Epicure.
HELEN: Isn’t it?
(Harold smiles at Helen. Helen smiles at Harold. She pulls one last biscuit out of her purse. She hands it to him. He sniffs it. He takes it gingerly. He licks it delicately. He takes a tiny piece between his teeth. He sighs. He smiles. He takes another tiny bite.)