LADY EMILY: Really, William, you should not betray the secrets of our youth. Ann, who is romantic, believes that Molly was the most tender of lovers. LORD WILLIAM: Well, even when you lay your _amour propre_ aside you will admit that Molly was, if possible, far more tender than passionate. LADY EMILY: Fiddlesticks! Molly was never in the least tender, nor for that matter was he in the least passionate either. But he was not more ridiculous than any other young man who adopts an attitude unpropelled by an impulse. ANN: What was his attitude? LADY EMILY: In the year ’80, to which William is referring, his attitude was one of affection towards myself. ANN: I am sure that that was quite sincere. LADY EMILY: Perfectly. He liked me in private and loved me in public. ANN: You mean that he was shy when he was alone with you? LADY EMILY: No. I mean that he was frank when he was alone with me. ANN: What a divine compliment. LADY EMILY: The truth is the most tiresome of all compliments. LORD WILLIAM: When I am flattered I always imagine that I have been told the truth. LADY EMILY: William has always been vain—whereas I have been selfish, which is a much more artistic achievement. When William was young, he succumbed to every temptation—a sad lack both of fastidiousness and of concentration. I, on the other hand, determined to miss chances and take opportunities. I succeeded. LORD WILLIAM: Your aunt means that she remained unmarried. LADY EMILY: On purpose. LORD WILLIAM: A misguided objective. LADY EMILY: Why? LORD WILLIAM: The stationary is no achievement. LADY EMILY: There was nothing stationary about it. LORD WILLIAM: Don’t shock Ann. [_Enter THOMPSON and SELINA._ THOMPSON: Miss Selina, m’lady. [_Exit THOMPSON._ SELINA: Papa, you are an outrage. LORD WILLIAM: I hope so, my love. SELINA: You forgot me. LORD WILLIAM: How is that possible? SELINA: I should have hoped it would be impossible. LORD WILLIAM: Are you suggesting that my delight as a parent has triumphed over my indiscretion as a chaperon? That my desire for your society has prevented me from leaving you at the right moment? SELINA: I am suggesting no such thing. I am merely mentioning the fact that you went out without me. LORD WILLIAM: To be sure, that is what comes of living in the same house. One never can remember the other person. [_Enter THOMPSON and MR. MOLYNEUX._ THOMPSON: Mr. Molyneux, m’lady. ANN: Mr. Molyneux, Uncle Bill and Aunt Emily have been taking your character away. If you want to find it again you need only come to me. LORD WILLIAM: Quite right, my dear. At last I have found a profession for you. A pawnbroker of reputations. LADY EMILY: Remember not to accept stolen goods. SELINA: And that, failing a payment, the property becomes your own. MOLYNEUX: I am not putting my reputation on deposit; I am giving it to Ann. LADY EMILY: You are giving away something you don’t possess. MOLYNEUX: Won’t you lend it to me?