[_Opening her eyes wide._] How very extraordinary! I thought of going there, too. DICK. Then, without a moment's hesitation, I shall go to Norway. MRS. CROWLEY. It'll be dreadfully cold. DICK. Dreadfully. But I shall be supported by the consciousness of having done my duty. MRS. CROWLEY. You don't think there would be room for both of us in Spain? DICK. I'm convinced there wouldn't. We should always be running against one another, and you'd insist on my looking out all your trains in Bradshaw. MRS. CROWLEY. I hope you remember that you asked me to tea to-day? DICK. Pardon me, you asked yourself. I keep the letter next to my heart and put it under my pillow every night. MRS. CROWLEY. You fibber! Besides, if I did, it was only on Lucy's account. DICK. That, I venture to think, is neither polite nor accurate. MRS. CROWLEY. I don't think I should so utterly detest you, if you hadn't such a good opinion of yourself. DICK. You forget that I vowed on the head of my maternal grandmother never to speak to you again. MRS. CROWLEY. Oh, I'm always doing that. I tell my maid that time she does my hair badly. DICK. You trifled with the tenderest affection of an innocent and unsophisticated old bachelor. MRS. CROWLEY. Is that you by any chance? DICK. Of course, it's me. D'you think I was talking of the man in the moon? MRS. CROWLEY. [_Looking at him critically._] With the light behind, you might still pass for thirty-five. DICK. I've given up youth and its vanities. I no longer pluck out my white hairs. MRS. CROWLEY. Then how on earth do you occupy your leisure? DICK. For the last three months I've been laboriously piecing together the fragments of a broken heart. MRS. CROWLEY. If you hadn't been so certain that I was going to accept you, I should never have refused. I couldn't resist the temptation of saying "No" just to see how you took it. DICK. I flatter myself that I took it very well. MRS. CROWLEY. You didn't. You showed an entire lack of humour. You might have known that a nice woman doesn't marry a man the first time he asks her. It's making oneself too cheap. It was very silly of you to go off to Scotland as if you didn't care.... How was I to know that you meant to wait three months before asking me again? DICK. I haven't the least intention of asking you again. MRS. CROWLEY. Then why in heaven's name did you invite me to tea? DICK. May I respectfully remind you, first, that you invited yourself ... MRS. CROWLEY. [_Interrupting._] You're so irrelevant. DICK. And, secondly, that an invitation to tea is not necessarily accompanied by a proposal of marriage. MRS. CROWLEY. I'm afraid you're lamentably ignorant of the usages of good society. DICK. I assure you it's not done in the best circles. MRS. CROWLEY. [_With a little pout._] I shall be very cross with you in a minute. DICK. Why? MRS. CROWLEY. Because you're not behaving at all prettily. DICK.