CYNTHIA. No, no! It's mean of you to suggest it! JOHN. You won't marry-- CYNTHIA. Phillimore--no; never. [_Running to the window._] No; never, never, Jack. JOHN. [_Opening the window and calling out._] It's all right, Judge. You needn't wait. _There is a pause._ JOHN _leaves the window and bursts into laughter. He moves toward the door and closes it._ CYNTHIA _looks dazed._ CYNTHIA. Jack! [JOHN _laughs._] Yes, but I'm here, Jack. JOHN. Why not? CYNTHIA. You'll have to take me round to the Holland House! JOHN. Of course, I will! But, I say, Cynthia, there's no hurry. CYNTHIA. Why, I--I--can't stay here. JOHN. No, of course you can't stay here. But you can have a bite, though. [CYNTHIA _shakes her head._ JOHN _places the small chair, which was upset, next to the table, and the armchair close by._] Oh, I insist. Just look at yourself--you're as pale as a sheet and--here, here. Sit right down. I insist! By George, you must do it! [CYNTHIA _moves to the chair drawn up to the table, and sits down._ CYNTHIA. [_Faintly._] I _am_ hungry. JOHN. Just wait a moment. [JOHN _rushes out, leaving the door open._ CYNTHIA. I don't want more than a nibble! [_After a pause._] I am sorry to give you so much trouble. JOHN. No trouble at all. [_From the dining-room comes the cheerful noise of glasses and silver._] A hansom, of course, to take you round to your hotel? [_Speaking as he returns with a tray._ CYNTHIA. [_To herself._] I wonder how I ever dreamed I could marry that man. JOHN. [_Now by the table._] Can't imagine! There! CYNTHIA. I am hungry. Don't forget the hansom. [_She eats; he waits on her, setting this and that before her._ JOHN. [_Goes to the door, opens it and calls._] Nogam, a hansom at once. NOGAM. [_From without._] Yes, sir. JOHN. [_Again at the table, shows, and from now on continues to show, his true feelings for her._] How does it go? CYNTHIA. [_Faintly._] It goes all right. Thanks! [_Hardly eating at all._ JOHN. You always used to like anchovy. [CYNTHIA _nods and eats._] Claret? [CYNTHIA _shakes her head._] Oh, but you must! CYNTHIA. [_Tremulously._] Ever so little. [_He fills her glass and then his._] Thanks! JOHN. Here's to old times! [_Raising his glass._ CYNTHIA. [_Very tremulous._] Please not! JOHN. Well, here's to your next husband. CYNTHIA. [_Very tenderly._] Don't! JOHN. Oh, well, then, what shall the toast be? CYNTHIA. I'll tell you-- [_After a pause._] you can drink to the relation I am to you! JOHN. [_Laughing._] Well--what relation are you? CYNTHIA. I'm your first wife once removed! JOHN. [_Laughing, drinks._] I say, you're feeling better. CYNTHIA. Lots. JOHN. [_Reminiscent._] It's a good deal like those mornings after the races--isn't it? CYNTHIA. [_Nods._] Yes. [_Half-rising._] Is that the hansom? JOHN. [_Going up to the window._] No. CYNTHIA. [_Sitting down again._] What is that sound? JOHN. Don't you remember? CYNTHIA. No.