have been quite right about you! She always said—not before papa, of course, but to us children—that you were just that sort of man.
MANGAN [sitting up, much hurt]. Oh! did she? And yet she'd have let you marry me.
ELLIE. Well, you see, Mr Mangan, my mother married a very good man—for whatever you may think of my father as a man of business, he is the soul of goodness—and she is not at all keen on my doing the same.
MANGAN. Anyhow, you don't want to marry me now, do you?
ELLIE. [very calmly]. Oh, I think so. Why not?
MANGAN. [rising aghast]. Why not!
ELLIE. I don't see why we shouldn't get on very well together.
MANGAN. Well, but look here, you know— [he stops, quite at a loss].
ELLIE. [patiently]. Well?
MANGAN. Well, I thought you were rather particular about people's characters.
ELLIE. If we women were particular about men's characters, we should never get married at all, Mr Mangan.
MANGAN. A child like you talking of "we women"! What next! You're not in earnest?
ELLIE. Yes, I am. Aren't you?
MANGAN. You mean to hold me to it?
ELLIE. Do you wish to back out of it?
MANGAN. Oh, no. Not exactly back out of it.
ELLIE. Well?
- He has nothing to say. With a long whispered whistle, he drops into the wicker chair and stares before him like a beggared gambler. But a cunning look soon comes into his face. He leans over towards her on his right elbow, and speaks in a low steady voice.
