ynthia. How
charming you look! [CYNTHIA _sits down at the tea-table. To_
CYNTHIA.] Ah, why weren't you in your pew yesterday? I preached a most
original sermon.

[_He lays his hat and cane on the divan._

THOMAS. [_Aside to_ PHILIP.] Sir, Mrs. Vida Phillimore's maid called
you up on the telephone, and you're to expect Mrs. Phillimore on a
matter of business.

PHILIP. [_Astonished and disgusted._] Here, impossible! [_To_
CYNTHIA.] Excuse me, my dear! [PHILIP, _much embarrassed, goes out,
followed by_ THOMAS.

MATTHEW. [_Approaching_ CYNTHIA'S _chair, happily and pleasantly
self-important._] No, really, it was a wonderful sermon, my dear. My
text was from Paul--"It is better to marry than to burn." It was a
strictly logical sermon. I argued--that, as the grass withereth, and
the flower fadeth,--there is nothing final in Nature; not even Death!
And, as there is nothing final in Nature, not even Death;--so then if
Death is not final--why should marriage be final? [_Gently._] And so
the necessity of--eh--divorce! You see? It was an exquisite sermon!
All New York was there! And all New York went away happy! Even the
sinners--if there were any! I don't often meet sinners--do you?

CYNTHIA. [_Indulgently, in spite of his folly, because he is kind._]
You're such a dear, delightful Pagan! Here's your tea!

MATTHEW. [_Taking the tea._] Why, my dear--you have a very sad
expression!

CYNTHIA. [_A little bitterly._] Why not?

MATTHEW. [_With sentimental sweetness._] I feel as if I were of no use
in the world when I see sadness on a young face. Only sinners should
feel sad. You have committed no sin!

CYNTHIA. [_Impulsively._] Yes, I have!

MATTHEW. Eh?

CYNTHIA. I committed the unpardonable sin--whe--when I married for
love!

MATTHEW. One must not marry for anything else, my dear!

CYNTHIA. Why am I marrying your brother?

MATTHEW. I often wonder why? I wonder why you didn't choose to remain
a free woman.

CYNTHIA. [_Going over the ground she has often argued with herself._]
I meant to; but a divorcee has no place in society. I felt horridly
lonely! I wanted a friend. Philip was ideal as a friend--for months.
Isn't it nice to bind a friend to you?

MATTHEW. [_Setting down his teacup._] Yes--yes!

CYNTHIA. [_Growing more and more excited and moved as she speaks._] To
marry a friend--to marry on prudent, sensible grounds--a man--like
Philip? That's what I should have done first, instead of rushing in