Dorothy: Listen, Ma, I didn't want to say this, but I'm going to. Your eyesight is not what it used to be, and neither are your reflexes, and I want you to make me a promise. If ever you want to drive, you come to me, let me know, and I'll go with you. Do you promise?
Sophia: Promise? Why don't you ask me to sign it in blood? What happened to trust? You don't want me to drive a car, fine, but don't ask me to promise. Don't humiliate me. Leave me with what little dignity I have left. [exits]
Dorothy: Ma, I'm sorry. Honey, of course I trust you.
Sophia: [to herself] What a pigeon.