Henrietta: When I was a lass I used to imagine the kind of man I’d marry one day – his face, his voice, his hair – even minute details about his personality! Did you do that oo Henry dear?”
Henrietta: Did your imaginary girl look anything like me?
Henry: I don’t know… I never go above the neck…”
2 thoughts on ““I never go above the neck …””
Sounds just like any man.