JOHN. [_Quickly on her last word but speaking gravely._] Indeed! Will you? And why do you care what happens to me? CYNTHIA. [_Startled by his tone._] I--I--ah-- JOHN. [_Insistently and with a faint hope._] _Why_ do you _care_? CYNTHIA. I don't. Not in your sense-- JOHN. How dare you then pretend-- CYNTHIA. I don't pretend. JOHN. [_Interrupting her; proud, serious and strong._] How dare you look me in the face with the eyes that I once kissed, and pretend the least regard for me? [CYNTHIA _recoils and looks away. Her own feelings are revealed to her clearly for the first time._] I begin to understand our American women now. Fire-flies--and the fire they gleam with is so cold that a midge couldn't warm his heart at it, let alone a man. You're not of the same race as a man! You married me for nothing, divorced me for nothing, because you _are_ nothing! CYNTHIA. [_Wounded to the heart._] Jack! What are you saying? JOHN. [_With unrestrained emotion._] What,--you feigning an interest in me, feigning a lie--and in five minutes-- [_With a gesture, indicating the altar._] Oh, you've taught me the trick of your sex--you're the woman who's not a woman! CYNTHIA. [_Weakly._] You're saying terrible things to me. JOHN. [_Low and with intensity._] You haven't been divorced from me long enough to forget--what you should be ashamed to remember. CYNTHIA. [_Unable to face him and pretending not to understand him._] I don't know what you mean? JOHN. [_More forcibly and with manly emotion._] You're not able to forget me! You know you're not able to forget me; ask yourself if you are able to forget me, and when your heart, such as it is, answers "no," then-- [_The organ is plainly heard._] Well, then, prance gaily up to the altar and marry that, if you can! _He abruptly quits the room and_ CYNTHIA, _moving to an armchair, sinks into it, trembling._ MATTHEW _comes in and is joined by_ MISS HENEAGE _and_ PHILIP. _They do not see_ CYNTHIA _buried deeply in her chair. Accordingly_, MISS HENEAGE _moves over to the sofa and waits. They are all dressed for an evening reception and_ PHILIP _is in the traditional bridegroom's rig._ MATTHEW. [_As he enters._] I am sure you will do your part, Sarah--in a spirit of Christian decorum. [_To_ PHILIP.] It was impossible to find my surplice, Philip, but the more informal the better. PHILIP. [_With pompous responsibility._] Where's Cynthia? [MATTHEW _gives a glance around the room._ MATTHEW. Ah, here's the choir! [_He moves forward to meet it._ CHOIR BOYS _come in very orderly; divide and take their places, an even number on each side of the altar of flowers._ MATTHEW _vaguely superintends._ PHILIP _gets in the way of the bell and moves out of the way._ THOMAS _comes in._] Thomas, I directed you--One moment, if you please. [_He indicates the tables and chairs which_ THOMAS _hastens to push against the wall._