(_They look at one another, trying to remain grave, but presently both give a short embarrassed laugh. Mr M. comes a step nearer, placing his hand on the back of the chair._) I’ve got it! I know the signs! (_She looks at him inquiringly and with amusement. He nods towards the conservatory on the left._) You’ve been refusing some fellow in there. Miss G. Have I? (_Pointing to the conservatory on the right._) And what have you been doing in there? Mr M. (_After a careful glance over his shoulder_.) As you didn’t see the lady, I don’t mind admitting that I’ve been doing the same thing. Miss G. (_Raising her brows._) Refusing? Mr M. Refusing--to ask. Miss G. Oh! Mr M. (_He smokes vigorously, then throws his cigarette into a receptacle._) It’s a precious lot easier for you than for us, though. I say, I must sound like a conceited idiot, I know, but--well, you see, the fact is---- Miss G. That you’re Mr Marchesson----? Mr M. (_Pleased._) You know my name? Miss G. Oh yes. Mine’s Grainger. Mr M. Yes. I--I know your name, Miss Grainger. Miss G. You’re diamonds? (_She touches some that she is wearing as she speaks. He nods gloomily._) I’m soap. (_He glances for a brief instant at his hand._) So, of course----! (_She shrugs her shoulders and closes her fan. A moment’s pause._) Mr M. Beastly, isn’t it? Miss G. Well, it’s--monotonous. Mr M. It’s worse than that. It’s degrading, it’s heart-breaking, it’s ruin to the character. It saps my faith in humanity, it trammels my actions, it confines my affections, it cuts me off from friendship, from the pleasant and innocent companionships which my nature longs for. I alone mayn’t look with the eye of honest admiration on a pretty girl, I alone mayn’t---- Miss G. Sit in a conservatory? Mr M. (_With a shudder._) Above all--not that! I tell you it’s kept me single for years! And you for---- Miss G. Years? Mr M. (_Smiling._) Months! All last season and most of this! Take your case now---- Miss G. (_Eagerly leaning forward._) Oh yes, let’s! Mr M. You’d naturally enjoy men’s society, you’d like their friendship, their company, their admiration. You’d enjoy an innocent but piquant flirtation. Miss G. Should I? Mr M. (_Looking at her._) Well, yes, I think you would. You daren’t venture on it! Miss G. It is generally fatal, I admit. Mr M. The plain truth is that the thing’s intolerable. I shall stick a placard on my waistcoat--“Not for sale.” Miss G. And I’d better become a hospital nurse! Mr M. That’s rather an odd remedy, Miss Grainger. But, in some form or other, celibacy--public and avowed celibacy--is our only chance. (_He throws himself down in the chair._) Miss G. (_Low._) Unless there was somebody who---- Mr M. Didn’t know who you were? Not to be done in these days, with the illustrated press! And--you’ll excuse my referring to it?--but your fond father put _you_ on the wrappings of the soap. And owing to the large sale of the article----