MRS. JUNO. So you shall, dear. Tell me: do you really like me? I don't mean LOVE me: you might love the housemaid-- GREGORY [vehemently]. No! MRS. JUNO. Oh, yes you might; and what does that matter, anyhow? Are you really fond of me? Are we friends--comrades? Would you be sorry if I died? GREGORY [shrinking]. Oh, don't. MRS. JUNO. Or was it the usual aimless man's lark: a mere shipboard flirtation? GREGORY. Oh, no, no: nothing half so bad, so vulgar, so wrong. I assure you I only meant to be agreeable. It grew on me before I noticed it. MRS. JUNO. And you were glad to let it grow? GREGORY. I let it grow because the board was not up. MRS. JUNO. Bother the board! I am just as fond of Sibthorpe as-- GREGORY. Sibthorpe! MRS. JUNO. Sibthorpe is my husband's Christian name. I oughtn't to call him Tops to you now. GREGORY [chuckling]. It sounded like something to drink. But I have no right to laugh at him. My Christian name is Gregory, which sounds like a powder. MRS. JUNO [chilled]. That is so like a man! I offer you my heart's warmest friendliest feeling; and you think of nothing but a silly joke. A quip like that makes you forget me. GREGORY. Forget you! Oh, if I only could! MRS. JUNO. If you could, would you? GREGORY [burying his shamed face in his hands]. No: I'd die first. Oh, I hate myself. MRS. JUNO. I glory in myself. It's so jolly to be reckless. CAN a man be reckless, I wonder. GREGORY [straightening himself desperately]. No. I'm not reckless. I know what I'm doing: my conscience is awake. Oh, where is the intoxication of love? the delirium? the madness that makes a man think the world well lost for the woman he adores? I don't think anything of the sort: I see that it's not worth it: I know that it's wrong: I have never in my life been cooler, more businesslike. MRS. JUNO. [opening her arms to him] But you can't resist me. GREGORY. I must. I ought [throwing himself into her arms]. Oh, my darling, my treasure, we shall be sorry for this. MRS. JUNO. We can forgive ourselves. Could we forgive ourselves if we let this moment slip? GREGORY. I protest to the last. I'm against this. I have been pushed over a precipice. I'm innocent. This wild joy, this exquisite tenderness, this ascent into heaven can thrill me to the uttermost fibre of my heart [with a gesture of ecstasy she hides her face on his shoulder]; but it can't subdue my mind or corrupt my conscience, which still shouts to the skies that I'm not a willing party to this outrageous conduct. I repudiate the bliss with which you are filling me. MRS. JUNO. Never mind your conscience. Tell me how happy you are. GREGORY. No, I recall you to your duty. But oh, I will give you my life with both hands if you can tell me that you feel for me one millionth part of what I feel for you now. MRS. JUNO. Oh, yes, yes. Be satisfied with that. Ask for no more. Let me go.