_The Philosopher._ Yet you will be obliged to sign a paper that you have nothing dutiable and that everything you have is yours. _Refined and Gifted._ If I were to declare the things, the duties would all have to come out of my own pocket. I shouldn't have the face to collect it from my friends. _The Philosopher._ They expect you to fib, of course. You prefer, then, to cheat the Government rather than disappoint persons who made use of you in order to accomplish that very thing? _Refined and Gifted._ You don't put it nicely at all, Mr. Philosopher. Besides, the things are mine. I paid for them with my own money; and, until I am paid back, the things belong to me. There, now, why shouldn't I sign the paper? _The Philosopher._ A shallow sophistry. A merchant who acted on that theory would be sent to jail. Will a refined and gifted instructress of youth, whose mission in life it is to lead the young in the paths of virtue, evade the law by a subterfuge? _Refined and Gifted._ It's an odious law. My family all believe in free trade. _The Philosopher._ Very possibly. But it is the law. _Refined and Gifted (after a pause)._ I don't care. If I declare the things they would never forgive me, and I can't afford to pay charges on their things myself. I've only just enough money to get home, anyway. Perhaps no one will ask me to sign it. By the way, how much ought I to give the man if he passes everything nicely? _The Philosopher._ Nothing. That would be bribery. _Refined and Gifted._ Why, I thought all men did that. _The Philosopher._ Chiefly women who try to smuggle. (_Silence of five minutes._) _Refined and Gifted._ I don't care. I shall sign it. And she did.