Mrs. H.—Tell me now. It must be some foolish misunderstanding, and you know that there was to be nothing of that sort between us? We, of all people in the world, can't afford it. Is it the Vaynor man, and don't you like to say so? On my honour
Capt. G.—I haven't given the Vaynor man a thought.
Mrs. H.—But how d'you know that I haven't?
Capt. G. (aside).—Here's my chance and may the Devil help me through with it. (Aloud and measuredly.) Believe me, I do not care how often or how tenderly you think of the Vaynor man.
Mrs. H.—I wonder if you mean that—oh, what is the good of squabbling and pretending to misunderstand when you are only up for so short a time? Pip, don't be a stupid!
Follows a pause, during which he crosses his left leg over his right and continues his dinner.
Capt. G. (in answer to the thunderstorm in her eyes).—Corns—my worst.
Mrs. H.—Upon my word, you are the very rudest man in the world! I'll never do it again.
Capt. G. (aside).—No, I don't think you will; but I wonder what you will do before it's all over. (To butler.) More Champagne, please.
Mrs. H.—Well! Haven't you the grace to apologise, bad man?
Capt. G. (aside).—I mustn't let it drift back now. Trust a woman for being as blind as a bat when she won't see.
Mrs. H.—I'm waiting; or would you like me to dictate a form of apology?
Capt. G. (desperately).—By all means dictate.
Mrs. H. (lightly).—Very well. Rehearse your several Christian names after me and go on:—"Profess my sincere repentance."
Capt. G.—"Sincere repentance."
Mrs. H.—"For having behaved "
