_Mrs Cheveley._ Sir Robert, I will be quite frank with you. I want you to withdraw the report that you had intended to lay before the House, on the ground that you have reason to believe that the Commissioners had been prejudiced or misinformed or something.... Will you do that for me? (_Naturally Sir Robert is indignant at the proposition, and proposes to call the lady's carriage for her._) _Sir Robert Chiltern._ You have lived so long abroad, Mrs Cheveley, that you seem to be unable to realise that you are talking to an English gentleman. _Mrs Cheveley._ (_Detains him by touching his arm with her fan, and keeping it there while she is talking._) I realise that I am talking to a man who laid the foundation of his fortune by selling to a Stock Exchange speculator a Cabinet secret. This is unfortunately only too true. For, years ago, when secretary to Lord Radley, "a great important minister," Sir Robert has written to Baron Arnheim a letter telling the Baron to buy Suez Canal shares--a letter written three days before the Government announced its own purchase, and which letter also is in Mrs Cheveley's possession! Here is a fine situation with a vengeance! By threatening to publish the scandal and the proofs of it in some leading newspaper, Mrs Cheveley induces the unfortunate Sir Robert to consent to withdraw the report, and state in the House that he believes there are possibilities in the scheme. In return for which she will give him back the compromising letter. So far, so good. She has won her cause. But, true woman as she is, she cannot conceal her triumph from Lady Chiltern as she is leaving the party. _Lady Chiltern._ Why did you wish to meet my husband, Mrs Cheveley? _Mrs Cheveley._ Oh, I will tell you. I wanted to interest him in this Argentine Canal Scheme, of which I daresay you have heard. And I found him most susceptible--susceptible to reason,--I mean. A rare thing in a man. I converted him in ten minutes. He is going to make a speech in the House to-morrow night, in favour of the idea. We must go to the Ladies' Gallery and hear him. It will be a great occasion. And so she goes gaily away, leaving her hostess perplexed and troubled. But in weaving her web round the hapless husband, she had not reckoned on the influence of the wife to disentangle it, and set the victim free. Yet, in a finely-conceived, and equally well-written, scene this is what actually happened. The company have all departed and they are alone together. _Lady Chiltern._ Robert, it is not true, is it? You are not going to lend your support to this Argentine speculation? You couldn't. _Sir Robert Chiltern._ (_Starting._) Who told you I intended to do so?