ETHEL. You didn't cut the moon up that way once. You used to look at it for hours. You were quite smitten with it then. EDWIN. I freely grant that if I stood and gazed at it for hours, I must have been considerably struck by it. ETHEL. Oh, Edwin dear, don't you remember that night in particular---- EDWIN. Do I remember that night? Oh, Ethel, shall I ever forget that night--that night when--by the by, my dear, which night were you alluding to? ETHEL. I said that one in particular. EDWIN. Precisely so, my love, but then there were so many ones in particular, and all are so indelibly impressed upon my memory, I can't remember one of them. ETHEL. I can remember all of them. Your saying that you'd rather have me than all the world. EDWIN. Did I say that? ETHEL. Twice over: for I asked you if you were quite sure. EDWIN. And I replied---- ETHEL. As sure as you were you. EDWIN. Then I don't think the observation goes for much; since, if I made so foolish a remark, I certainly was not myself. ETHEL. Then wouldn't you give all the world for me? EDWIN. I should be very silly if I did, for if I had the world to give, I should have you to start with. See? ETHEL. (_with reluctance_) Yes. EDWIN. You quite see? ETHEL. Yes--but you would give all the world for me, for all that, wouldn't you? At least you'd rather have me than any other two people put together? EDWIN. Certainly, my dear. I don't much care for freaks of nature of that sort. ETHEL. And you've got me, haven't you? EDWIN. Yes, and you've got me. ETHEL. And you're very happy, aren't you? EDWIN. Oh yes. ETHEL. You're in Paradise? EDWIN. Exactly so. ETHEL. And so am I. EDWIN. Do you like it? ETHEL. Well, of course I do. Don't you? EDWIN. Oh yes! I like it very much; but then, you know I like a little change. I think a little Paradise is very nice indeed, but don't you think that one may have more Paradise than's good for one? I can't help thinking it's a great mistake to take one's Paradise neat. Now we've been taking ours uncommon neat. Just think, the hours we've been cooped up in that confounded private room upstairs. ETHEL. Well, Edwin dear, you said you could not stand us being the only people there, so we've come down into the public room. EDWIN. And now we _have_ come, we're the only people here. I never knew such a disgusting place. Now, if we'd had a little change---- ETHEL. You might have met that odious Miss Carruthers, I suppose you mean--the girl that threw you over. EDWIN. Miss Carruthers is not odious, my dear, and Miss Carruthers didn't throw me over. Miss Carruthers was uncommonly fond of me. ETHEL. Why didn't she have you, then? EDWIN. Because she didn't get the chance. My only apprehension is lest I threw Miss Carruthers over. ETHEL. If you did, she must have tumbled on her nose, for I am sure it's broken.