time to find out
anything about each other. And now you come back--a stranger--

DENNIS (jerking his head at NORWOOD). And he's not a stranger, eh?

KATE (dropping her eyes). N-no.

DENNIS. You feel you know all about _him_?

KATE. I--we--(She is unhappy.)

NORWOOD. We have discovered that we love each other. (Taking her
hands) My darling one, this is distressing for you. Let _me_--

DENNIS (sharply). It wouldn't be distressing for her, if you didn't
keep messing her about. Why the devil can't you sit on a chair by
yourself?

NORWOOD (indignantly). Really!

KATE (freeing herself from him, and moving to the extreme end of the
sofa). What are you going to do, Dennis?

DENNIS (looking at them thoughtfully, his chin on his hand). I don't
know. . . . It's difficult. I don't want to do anything melodramatic. I
mean (to KATE) it wouldn't really help matters if I did shoot him,
would it?

(KATE looks at him without saying anything, trying to understand this
new man who has come into her life. NORWOOD swallows, and tries very
hard to say something)

NORWOOD. I--I--

DENNIS (turning to him). You_ don't think so, do you?

NORWOOD. I--I--

DENNIS. No, I'm quite sure you're right. It wouldn't really help. It
is difficult, isn't it? You see (to KATE) _you_ love _him_--(he waits
a moment for her to say it if she will, but she only looks at
him)--and _he_ says _he_ loves _you_, but at the same time I _am_ your
husband. . . . (He walks up and down thoughtfully, and then says suddenly
to NORWOOD) I'll tell you what--I'll fight you for her.

NORWOOD (trying to be firm). I think we'd better leave this
eighteenth-century nonsense out of it.

DENNIS (pleasantly). They fight in the twentieth century, too, Mr.
Norwood. Perhaps you hadn't heard what we've been doing these last
four years? Oh, quite a lot of it. . . . Well?

NORWOOD. You don't wish me to believe that you're serious?

DENNIS. Perfectly. Swords, pistols, fists, catch-as-catch-can--what
would you like?

NORWOOD. I do not propose to indulge in an undignified scuffle for
the--er--lady of my heart.

DENNIS (cheerfully). Nothing doing in scuffles, eh? All right, then,
I'll toss you for her.

NORWOOD. Now you're merely being vulgar. (to KATE) My dear--

(She motions him back with her hand, but does not take her eyes off
DENNIS.)

DENNIS. Really, Mr. Norwood, you're a little hard to please. If you
don't like my suggestions, perhaps you will make one of you