ROSAMUND. With a good woman, conscience comes first, love second. In time I shall learn to love _you_. I was always quick at lessons. Gerald, take me. It is the only way by which I can purge my lips of the lie uttered four years ago. [_Puts her hands on Gerald's shoulders._] JAMES. In about three-quarters of an hour you will regret this, Rosamund Fife. ROSAMUND. One never regrets a good action. GERALD. Oh! well! I say.... [_inarticulate with embarrassment_]. ROSAMUND [_after a pause_]. James, we are waiting. JAMES. What for? ROSAMUND. For you to go. JAMES. Don't mind me. You forget that I am in the War Office, and accustomed to surprising situations. GERALD. Look here, Rosie. It's awfully good of you, and you're doing me a frightfully kind turn; but I can't accept it, you know. It wouldn't do. Kindness spoils my character. JAMES. Yes, and think of the shock to the noble youth. GERALD. I couldn't permit such a sacrifice. ROSAMUND. To a good woman life should be one long sacrifice. GERALD. Yes, that's all very well, and I tell you, Rosie, I'm awfully obliged to you. Of course I'm desperately in love with you. That goes without saying. But I also must sacrifice myself. The fact is ... there's Madge.... ROSAMUND. Well? GERALD. Well, you know what a place a steamer is, especially in calm, warm weather. I'm afraid I've rather led her to expect.... The fact is, while you and Mr. Brett were having your little discussion just now, I employed the time in scribbling out a bit of a letter to her, and I rather fancy that I've struck one or two deuced good ideas in the proposal line. How's this for a novelty: "My dear Miss Madge, you cannot fail to have noticed from my behavior in your presence that I admire you tremendously?" Rather a neat beginning, eh? ROSAMUND. But you said you loved me. GERALD. Oh, well, so I do. You see I only state that I "admire" her. All the same I feel I'm sort of bound to her, ... you see how I'm fixed. I should much prefer, of course.... JAMES. To a good man life should be one long sacrifice. GERALD. Exactly, sir. ROSAMUND [_steadying herself and approaching James_]. Jim, my sacrifice is over. It was a terrible ordeal, and nothing but a strict sense of duty could have supported me through such a trying crisis. I am yours. Lead me to the altar. I trust Gerald may be happy with this person named Madge. JAMES. The flame of your love has not faltered? ROSAMUND. Ah, no! JAMES. Well, if my own particular flame hadn't been fairly robust, the recent draughts might have knocked it about a bit. You have no more sacrifices in immediate view?... [_She looks at him in a certain marvelous way, and he suddenly swoops down and kisses her._] To the altar! March! Dash; we shall want another witness. GERALD. Couldn't I serve? ROSAMUND. You're sure it wouldn't be too much for your feelings?