Then tell me exactly how matters stand. GERALD. It would only bore you, and besides you wouldn’t understand. MRS. DOT. Now you’re talking through your hat, my friend. You’re simply talking through your hat. I flatter myself there are few men who have a better head for business than I have. Why, since my husband died I’ve almost doubled our profits. The brewery has never been so flourishing. I’ve told the British People on fifty thousand hoardings to drink Worthley’s Half-crown Family Ale, and by Jove, the British People do. GERALD. You funny little thing. MRS. DOT. Well, now tell me all about it, and let’s see if things can’t be put straight. GERALD. Oh, my dear, I’m afraid they’re in a most awful mess. I never had much money to start with, and I got into debt. Then I tried a flutter on the Stock Exchange, and the confounded shares went down steadily from the day I bought. MRS. DOT. It’s a way shares have when fools buy them. GERALD. But I daresay I could have weathered that, only a pal of mine got into a hole, and I backed a bill for him. MRS. DOT. You don’t mean to say you did that? GERALD. I was obliged to. I couldn’t let him go under without trying to do something. MRS. DOT. You donkey, you perfect donkey! GERALD. He swore he’d be able to pay the money. MRS. DOT. I never knew a man yet, or a woman either for that matter, who’d stick at a thundering lie when he wanted money. And what’s the result? GERALD. Well, the result is that after I’ve paid everything up, I shall have about five hundred pounds left. I’m proposing to go out to America and rough it a bit. MRS. DOT. Pardon my asking, but do you think a handsome face, a talent for small talk, and a certain charm of manner will enable you to earn your daily bread? GERALD. [_Laughing._] I don’t want to seem vain, but although I’ve done my best to conceal them, I fancy I have two or three other qualifications which will be of more service. MRS. DOT. Then the long and the short of it is that you’re ruined. GERALD. Absolutely. MRS. DOT. I’m delighted to hear it. GERALD. Dot! MRS. DOT. I am. I can’t help it. But I think your plan of going to the States is simply foolish. GERALD. What else _can_ I do? The Cape’s entirely played out. MRS. DOT. You stupid creature. GERALD. I beg your pardon! MRS. DOT. You belong to a class whose chief resource when it has squandered its money is a rich marriage. The custom is so well recognised that when a man of good family emigrates rather than have recourse to it, society is outraged and suspicious. GERALD. Thanks. I don’t think I can see myself marrying for money. MRS. DOT. Don’t be so absurd. I never heard that the course of true love ran any less smoothly because a charming widow had sixty thousand a year. GERALD. What _do_ you mean? MRS. DOT.