. LORD GORING _rushes to the door of the
drawing-room_, _when_ MRS. CHEVELEY _comes out_, _looking radiant and
much amused_.]

MRS. CHEVELEY. [_With a mock curtsey_] Good evening, Lord Goring!

LORD GORING. Mrs. Cheveley! Great heavens! . . . May I ask what you
were doing in my drawing-room?

MRS. CHEVELEY. Merely listening. I have a perfect passion for listening
through keyholes. One always hears such wonderful things through them.

LORD GORING. Doesn't that sound rather like tempting Providence?

MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh! surely Providence can resist temptation by this time.
[_Makes a sign to him to take her cloak off_, _which he does_.]

LORD GORING. I am glad you have called. I am going to give you some
good advice.

MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh! pray don't. One should never give a woman anything
that she can't wear in the evening.

LORD GORING. I see you are quite as wilful as you used to be.

MRS. CHEVELEY. Far more! I have greatly improved. I have had more
experience.

LORD GORING. Too much experience is a dangerous thing. Pray have a
cigarette. Half the pretty women in London smoke cigarettes. Personally
I prefer the other half.

MRS. CHEVELEY. Thanks. I never smoke. My dressmaker wouldn't like it,
and a woman's first duty in life is to her dressmaker, isn't it? What
the second duty is, no one has as yet discovered.

LORD GORING. You have come here to sell me Robert Chiltern's letter,
haven't you?

MRS. CHEVELEY. To offer it to you on conditions. How did you guess
that?

LORD GORING. Because you haven't mentioned the subject. Have you got it
with you?

MRS. CHEVELEY. [_Sitting down_.] Oh, no! A well-made dress has no
pockets.

LORD GORING. What is your price for it?

MRS. CHEVELEY. How absurdly English you are! The English think that a
cheque-book can solve every problem in life. Why, my dear Arthur, I have
very much more money than you have, and quite as much as Robert Chiltern
has got hold of. Money is not what I want.

LORD GORING. What do you want then, Mrs. Cheveley?

MRS. CHEVELEY. Why don't you call me Laura?

LORD GORING. I don't like the name.

MRS. CHEVELEY. You used to adore it.

LORD GORING. Yes: that's why. [MRS. CHEVELEY _motions to him to sit
down beside her_. _He smiles_, _and does so_.]

MRS. CHEVELEY. Arthur, you loved me once.

LORD GORING. Yes.

MRS. CHEVELEY. And you asked me to be your wife.

LORD GORING. That was the natura