CELIA. (_Annoyed, pauses_) Perhaps not--to-night. SMITH. Not to-night and not any night. (CELIA _viciously presses cigarette down on ashtray and puts it out. Reprovingly_) We both know how strongly he disapproved of the modern latitude of women's manners. (_She turns away_.) You know I'd fancy the man who could make you care for him would be quite different from Smith. You haven't his little shut-in way of looking at life. You have such a splendid imagination. CELIA. (_Nervously_) Yes, and I'm beginning to think I need one. SMITH. Did you really love each other? CELIA. (_Takes up her coffee cup_) I can't answer for Colonel Smith--who was a man you know. But for myself, I can truthfully say that I have thought of him every day for eight months. Thought of him---- Yes! And _written_ to him too. SMITH. (_Startled_) Written to him! By Jove, then! Where _are those_ letters? You can't let things like that go astray. Letters from _you_--knocking loose about a camp! (_He is upset and disturbed_.) CELIA. (_Smiling to herself_) Why should you imagine--my letters never reached him? SMITH. (_Smiling reminiscently_) Because I was with him--when he got the first one. CELIA. (_Very agitated. Puts her cup sharply on saucer_) You--you--you don't mean to say a Colonel Smith ever received---- Oh--no gentleman _could_ have _shown_ my letter. SMITH. (_Sincerely_) _Shown_ it? Oh, Miss Faraday, you can't know what that letter of _yours_ meant to---- CELIA. (_Turning on him quickly_) I beg your pardon. SMITH. I mean _did meant_--I mean _did mean_--to good old Smith. (_Leaning forward with a smile. Moves his chair below table a little closer to hers_.) I say, I've an idea. Let's forget Smith for five minutes and talk of something else. CELIA. (_Forgetting herself_) Oh, yes! Do let's. SMITH. What shall we talk about? CELIA. (_Very engagingly_) You. You have hardly said a word yet about yourself--and--naturally I am interested. (_Speaks with a smile. Face on_ L. _hand_.) (SMITH _edges toward her, delighted_ R. _elbow on table, face on hand_.) SMITH. I was born--guess when? CELIA. Thirty years ago. SMITH. (_Holding out box_) Have a cigarette? CELIA. No, thank you. I'd rather not. Do you think Smith would have liked me to smoke? SMITH. Ah, you see, we can't get away from him. He dominates us. Living or dead, his imperious nature will not be neglected. He sits at the table here between you and me. (_Designates a spot between them on table_.) To satisfy him, we've got to talk about him. CELIA. What is there to say? SMITH. What is there to say! And you've told me nothing about the Smith you knew. CELIA. (_Surprised_) The Smith I knew? (_Recovering herself_) Oh, yes, of course. SMITH. Yes--you see I know him only as the soldier--the man of action--the fighting man--but you---- CELIA. But there is nothing to tell. SMITH. (_Strongly_) You mean there is nothing you wish to tell. CELIA. (_Defiantly_) Certainly not. What is it you wish to know?