JOHN. [_Lighting his pipe and sitting down on the arm of a chair._] Of course, if you find my presence painful, I'll--skiddoo. _He indicates the door._ CYNTHIA _shakes her head._ JOHN _smokes his pipe and remains seated._ CYNTHIA. [_Suddenly and quickly._] It's just simply a fact, Karslake, and that's all there is to it--if a woman has once been married--that is, the first man she marries--then--she may quarrel, she may hate him--she may despise him--but she'll always be jealous of him with other women. Always! [JOHN _takes this as if he were simply glad to have the information._ JOHN. Oh--H'm! ah--yes--yes. CYNTHIA. [_After a pause._] You probably felt jealous of Phillimore. JOHN. [_Reasonably, sweetly, and in doubt._] N-o! [_Apologetically._] I felt simply: Let him take his medicine. CYNTHIA. Oh! JOHN. I beg your pardon--I meant-- CYNTHIA. You meant what you said! JOHN. [_Moving a step toward her._] Mrs. Karslake; I apologize--I won't do it again. But it's too late for you to be out alone--Philip will be here in a moment--and of course, then-- CYNTHIA. It isn't what you _say_--it's--it's--it's everything. It's the entire situation. Suppose by any chance I don't marry Phillimore! And suppose I were seen at two or three in the morning leaving my former husband's house! It's all wrong. I have no business to be here! I'm going! You're perfectly horrid to me, you know--and--the whole place--it's so familiar, and so--so associated with--with-- JOHN. Discord and misery--I know-- CYNTHIA. Not at all with discord and misery! With harmony and happiness--with--with first love, and infinite hope--and--and--Jack Karslake,--if you don't set that chair on its legs, I think I'll explode. [JOHN _crosses the room rapidly, and sets the chair on its legs. His tone changes._ JOHN. [_While setting chair on its legs._] There! I beg your pardon. CYNTHIA. [_Nervously._] I believe I hear Philip. [_She rises._ JOHN. [_Going up to the window._] N-o! That's the policeman trying the front door! And now, see here, Mrs. Karslake,--you're only here for a short minute, because you can't help yourself, but I want you to understand that I'm not trying to be disagreeable--I don't want to revive all the old unhappy-- CYNTHIA. Very well, if you don't--give me my hat. [JOHN _does so._] And my sewing! And my gloves, please! [_She indicates the several articles which lie on the small table._] Thanks! [CYNTHIA _throws the lot into the fireplace, and returns to the place she has left near table._] There! I feel better! And now--all I ask is-- JOHN. [_Laughing._] My stars, what a pleasure it is! CYNTHIA. What is? JOHN. Seeing you in a whirlwind! CYNTHIA. [_Wounded by his seeming indifference._] Oh! JOHN. No, but I mean, a real pleasure! Why not? Time's passed since you and I were together--and--eh-- CYNTHIA. And you've forgotten what a vile temper I had! JOHN. [_Reflectively._] Well, you did kick the stuffing out of the matrimonial buggy--