MRS. DOT. Well? GERALD. Nothing. MRS. DOT. Oh! My poor heart went pit-a-pat. I thought you were going to kiss me. GERALD. I hate you. And I wish I’d never set eyes on you. [_He turns on his heel and walks out quickly. As soon as he is gone_ MRS. DOT _begins to dance a break-down. She cocks a snook after him._ MRS. DOT. I’ll marry you yet, you beast, I’ll marry you yet. [BLENKINSOP _comes in_. BLENKINSOP. What on earth is the matter with you now? [_From inside is heard the sound of a cake-walk._ MRS. DOT. Come on. [_She seizes him and begins to dance._ BLENKINSOP. Unhand me, woman! MRS. DOT. Oh, you dear, you dear, you dear. [_She flings both arms round his neck and kisses him soundly. At this moment_ GERALD _returns_. GERALD. I beg your pardon. I forgot my hat. [_He takes it and goes out stiffly._ MRS. DOT _bursts into a shriek of laughter_. BLENKINSOP. That’s all very fine. But what about my character? END OF THE SECOND ACT THE THIRD ACT _A hall in_ MRS. WORTHLEY’S _house on the River_. GERALD _and_ NELLIE _are seated in arm-chairs. She stifles a yawn. Then he yawns._ GERALD. I beg your pardon. NELLIE. [_Yawning._] I never saw any one who yawned so much as you. GERALD. [_Ironically._] I suppose you’ve never looked at yourself in the glass? NELLIE. Is your family very long-lived, Gerald? GERALD. [_Rather surprised._] Are you already asking yourself how you’ll look in widow’s weeds? NELLIE. You may very well live for forty years, mayn’t you? GERALD. My maternal grandfather survived to plague his descendants to the ripe age of ninety-seven. NELLIE. How many days are there in forty years? GERALD. I should think about fifteen thousand. NELLIE. Has it occurred to you that we may eat fifteen thousand breakfasts sitting opposite one another, and fifteen thousand luncheons, and fifteen thousand dinners? GERALD. [_Gloomily._] Yes, it had occurred to me. NELLIE. And how do you look upon the prospect? GERALD. [_Grimly._] It fills me with satisfaction, naturally. NELLIE. [_Abruptly._] I suppose you’re very much in love with me? GERALD. What an extraordinary question! NELLIE. I don’t think any one but a lunatic would describe you as an ardent lover. GERALD. [_Coldly._] I regret that my behaviour doesn’t meet with your satisfaction. NELLIE. Do you know that since we became definitely engaged you’ve never told me that you cared for me? GERALD. [_Apologetically._] Yes, I ought to have done that, oughtn’t I? I suppose I thought you’d take it for granted. NELLIE. Every girl likes a suspicion of romance thrown over her love-affairs. GERALD. Your mother will tell you that the certainty of marriage is much more satisfactory. NELLIE. [_Dryly._] You would have made an excellent husband--for mother. GERALD. Have you noticed that when we _do_ think of something to talk about, we get perilously near a squabble? NELLIE.