ANN (_smiling_): I am happy. MOLYNEUX: Tell us, Ann, is virtue really its own reward? We should so like to know. We need cheering up. [_Enter THOMPSON._ THOMPSON: Dinner is served, m’lady. [_General bustle._ CURTAIN _for Ten Seconds_ SCENE II _Curtain rises as ANN, LADY EMILY, MRS. MARTINEAU and SELINA come out of the dining-room._ LADY EMILY: Could anything be more Prussian than a dinner-party? The same courses succeeding one another night after night, just as if cooking were regulated by staff officers. In vain one longs for mustard with mutton. ANN (_to MRS. MARTINEAU_): What a lovely dress, Mabel. MRS. MARTINEAU: I am so glad you like it. ANN: You are always so beautifully dressed. MRS. MARTINEAU: That is because I insist on having the clothes made by the French for the French; not the models designed for export purposes. LADY EMILY: What is the difference? MRS. MARTINEAU: When an Englishwoman or an American goes into Callot, or Cheruit, the _vendeuse_ instantly shows her the most elaborate things she has got—lace, flowers, furs and furbelows. LADY EMILY: Why? MRS. MARTINEAU: Out of contempt for our taste and desire to make the price as high as possible. SELINA: And we think it must be all right because of the name inside. MRS. MARTINEAU: Men are such bad judges of clothing! They like crude colours and they notice nothing. SELINA: No. They say, “Kitty had on a divine dress,” and you ask, “What colour was it?” and they explain, “Kind of orange,” and it turns out to have been jade green. ANN: And they always admire on other women the sort of clothes they deprecate for their wives. MRS. MARTINEAU: And they talk about the conspicuous, which doesn’t mean anything. Of course it is dreadful to be conspicuously imperfect, just as it is delightful to be conspicuously perfect. But the conspicuousness is just underlining. ANN: So few of us can afford to be underlined. SELINA: Blue serge and black velvet are safest in all things. MRS. MARTINEAU: There isn’t much blue serge and black velvet about you, Selina. SELINA: No. I’m always in the worst of taste. MRS. MARTINEAU: We all dress for women, really. SELINA: To annoy women, you mean? LADY EMILY: With some people all admiration is a form of envy, and all pleasure is a compound of pleasing and annoying your friends. SELINA: How moral you are this evening, Aunt Emily. LADY EMILY: Not moral, my dear, moralizing—it’s not the same thing. SELINA: No, indeed. Look at Ann. She never gives us advice. MRS. MARTINEAU (_acidly_): Only an example. ANN: Really, the way my family talk about me—I wonder anyone can put up with me at all. MRS. MARTINEAU: And Mr. Molyneux. ANN: He is almost one of the family. SELINA (_maliciously to MRS. MARTINEAU_): And Tim? LADY EMILY: Tim does not at all remind me of my youth. ANN: Doesn’t he, Aunt Emily? LADY EMILY (_with decision_): No. SELINA: Why not? LADY EMILY: Too good.