t's
impossible! A woman of your mental calibre--No. Some obscure,
primitive, female _feeling_ is at work corrupting your better
judgment! What is it you _feel_?

CYNTHIA. Philip, you never felt like a fool, did you?

PHILIP. No, never.

CYNTHIA. [_Politely._] I thought not.

PHILIP. No, but whatever your feelings, I conclude you are ready to
marry me.

CYNTHIA. [_Uneasy._] Of course, I came back. I am here, am I not?

PHILIP. You are ready to marry me?

CYNTHIA. [_Twisting in the coils._] But you haven't had your dinner.

PHILIP. Do I understand you refuse?

CYNTHIA. Couldn't we defer--?

PHILIP. You refuse?

CYNTHIA. [_Desperately thinking of an escape from her promise, and
finding none._] No, I said I'd marry you. I'm a woman of my word. I
will.

PHILIP. [_Triumphant._] Ah! Very good, then. Run to your room.
[CYNTHIA _turns to_ PHILIP.] Throw something over you. In a half hour
I'll expect you here! And Cynthia, my dear, remember! I cannot
cuculate like a wood-pigeon, but--I esteem you!

CYNTHIA. [_Hopelessly._] I think I'll go, Philip.

PHILIP. I may not be fitted to play the love-bird, but--

CYNTHIA. [_Spiritlessly._] I think I'll go, Philip.

PHILIP. I'll expect you,--in half an hour.

CYNTHIA. [_With leaden despair._] Yes.

PHILIP. And, Cynthia, don't think any more about that fellow,
Cates-Darby.

CYNTHIA. [_Amazed and disgusted by his misapprehension._] No. [_As_
CYNTHIA _leaves_, THOMAS _comes in from the opposite door._

PHILIP. [_Not seeing_ THOMAS, _and clumsily defiant._] And if I had
that fellow, Cates-Darby, in the dock--!

THOMAS. Sir Wilfrid Cates-Darby.

PHILIP. Sir what--what--wh-who? [SIR WILFRID _enters in evening
dress._ PHILIP _looks_ SIR WILFRID _in the face and speaks to_
THOMAS.] Tell Sir Wilfrid Cates-Darby I am not at home to him. [THOMAS
_is embarrassed._

SIR WILFRID. [_Undaunted._] My dear Lord Eldon--

PHILIP. [_Again addressing_ THOMAS.] Show the gentleman the door.
[_There is a pause._ SIR WILFRID, _with a significant gesture, glances
at the door._

SIR WILFRID. [_Moving to the door, he examines it and returns to_
PHILIP.] Eh,--I admire the door, my boy! Fine, old carved mahogany
panel; but don't ask me to leave by it, for Mrs. Karslake made me
promise I'd come, and that's why I'm here.

[THOMAS _does not wait for further orders._

PHILIP. Sir, you are--impudent--!

SIR WILFRID. [_Interrupting._] Ah, you put it all in a nutshell, don't