Daphne: Truth is, I do still think of this place as my home. But I know you'd never be comfortable knowing Joe and I were.
Frasier: I'd be willing to try.
Daphne: I know you better than that. It'll bother you and we'll both be miserable.
Frasier: Why can't I get past this? Oh, it'd just be easier if I could be like my father and pretend you weren't in here making love.
Daphne: Making love? Is that what you think we were doing?
Frasier: Yes, of course.
Daphne: Oh, no. There was nothing like that going on in here.
Frasier: Really? Seems rather implausible. Even if I'd like to believe that - and believe me I really do want to - uh, how can I?
Daphne: Well, how could Joe and I make love? What with, uh, Joe's war injury?
Frasier: Oh. I didn't even know Joe was a soldier. What war would that be?
Daphne: The Falkland Islands.
Frasier: But that was a British conflict and Joe's not...
Daphne: His parents have a summerhouse there.
Frasier: Oh, that's very unfortunate, taking a summerhouse in a war zone. But how-?
Daphne: He was kicked by a sheep.
Frasier: A sheep?
Daphne: Yes, a sheep, spooked by an air raid siren. Work with me.
Frasier: I see. All right, what you're saying is that Joe-
Daphne: Can't.
Frasier: Ah. Well, I suppose that changes everything.
Daphne: Yes, I suppose it does. But just so as we're clear - even though there's no actual lovemaking, Joe and I can on occasion, say, read poems to each other in here at night?
Frasier: As long as you don't read too loudly.