HE [recoiling] Mr Apjohn!!! SHE. Excuse me: I meant Henry, of course. HE. How could you even think of me as Mr Apjohn? I never think of you as Mrs Bompas: it is always Cand-- I mean Aurora, Aurora, Auro-- SHE. Yes, yes: that's all very well, Mr Apjohn [He is about to interrupt again: but she won't have it] no: it's no use: I've suddenly begun to think of you as Mr Apjohn; and it's ridiculous to go on calling you Henry. I thought you were only a boy, a child, a dreamer. I thought you would be too much afraid to do anything. And now you want to beat Teddy and to break up my home and disgrace me and make a horrible scandal in the papers. It's cruel, unmanly, cowardly. HE [with grave wonder] Are you afraid? SHE. Oh, of course I'm afraid. So would you be if you had any common sense. [She goes to the hearth, turning her back to him, and puts one tapping foot on the fender]. HE [watching her with great gravity] Perfect love casteth out fear. That is why I am not afraid. Mrs Bompas: you do not love me. SHE [turning to him with a gasp of relief] Oh, thank you, thank you! You really can be very nice, Henry. HE. Why do you thank me? SHE [coming prettily to him from the fireplace] For calling me Mrs Bompas again. I feel now that you are going to be reasonable and behave like a gentleman. [He drops on the stool; covers his face with his hand; and groans]. What's the matter? HE. Once or twice in my life I have dreamed that I was exquisitely happy and blessed. But oh! the misgiving at the first stir of consciousness! the stab of reality! the prison walls of the bedroom! the bitter, bitter disappointment of waking! And this time! oh, this time I thought I was awake. SHE. Listen to me, Henry: we really haven't time for all that sort of flapdoodle now. [He starts to his feet as if she had pulled a trigger and straightened him by the release of a powerful spring, and goes past her with set teeth to the little table]. Oh, take care: you nearly hit me in the chin with the top of your head. HE [with fierce politeness] I beg your pardon. What is it you want me to do? I am at your service. I am ready to behave like a gentleman if you will be kind enough to explain exactly how. SHE [a little frightened] Thank you, Henry: I was sure you would. You're not angry with me, are you? HE. Go on. Go on quickly. Give me something to think about, or I will--I will--[he suddenly snatches up her fan and it about to break it in his clenched fists]. SHE [running forward and catching at the fan, with loud lamentation] Don't break my fan--no, don't. [He slowly relaxes his grip of it as she draws it anxiously out of his hands]. No, really, that's a stupid trick. I don't like that. You've no right to do that. [She opens the fan, and finds that the sticks are disconnected]. Oh, how could you be so inconsiderate? HE. I beg your pardon. I will buy you a new one. SHE [querulously] You will never be able to match it. And it was a particular favorite of mine.