SELINA: And that, mind you, without taking the proverbial step. TIM: He is our host and Ann’s husband. MRS. MARTINEAU: Tim, you are becoming a prig. TIM: Perhaps, but we must think of Ann. MRS. MARTINEAU (_acidly_): Perhaps, but you think of nothing else. MOLYNEUX: Thinking about Ann is a delightful occupation. It is like thinking about primroses and spring and lilac bushes and blue-bell woods, all of the things, in fact, that we are too clever or too stupid to think about. LORD WILLIAM: You left out skylarks and rippling brooks and blossoming trees. MRS. MARTINEAU (_acidly_): And red flannel blankets. MOLYNEUX: I should like to have forgotten them. LORD WILLIAM: Think of Molly dreaming about primroses and red flannel and you will realize that Ann is something more than a saint. SELINA: A saint who works miracles. MRS. MARTINEAU: A siren, in fact. LORD WILLIAM: You should always remember, Selina, that virtue has its charms. MOLYNEUX: Which will be a strain, my poor child, as you will seldom be reminded of it. TIM: Except when you are staying with Ann. SELINA: I am afraid that, however virtuous I may become, I shall never be as charming as Ann. MRS. MARTINEAU (_acidly_): Not in Tim’s eyes. LORD WILLIAM: Let me beg you, my dear, not to regard Tim as representative of his sex. He is a knight errant. He puts women on a pedestal. MOLYNEUX: A gallant form of shelving. MRS. MARTINEAU: He divides the world into saints and cocottes, and, as there are many who fall between the two stools, they are disposed of as “children of nature.” TIM: Come! MRS. MARTINEAU: You would be surprised, Selina, at Tim’s child of nature. She can powder and paint, languish and pounce, but, if she was never a saint and is not yet in the gutter, we are forced to accept her as a pure, wild creature, trapped in our horrible society. [_They laugh._ MOLYNEUX: You are silent, Jordan. MRS. MARTINEAU: Mr. Jordan is making a reputation. LORD WILLIAM: Be careful, you will find it impossible to lose. MOLYNEUX: We are a faithful people. A little late, perhaps, but true to the end. Have you ever known an English audience to recognize a singer till she’s forty, or disown her till she’s dead? LORD WILLIAM: Remember, Jordan, one evening may stamp you as a drunkard, one mot advertise you as a wit, one adventure immortalize you as a Don Juan. JORDAN: Will one speech proclaim me an orator? LORD WILLIAM: Speeches are swallows that never make a summer. SELINA: Do you take things seriously, Mr. Jordan? LORD WILLIAM: Really, Selina, you make me ashamed of your upbringing. You mustn’t ask a rising young statesman a question like that. He might have to say “yes” and then we should think him a fool. JORDAN: Don’t worry, Miss Selina. I am brave enough to admit that I take some things seriously. SELINA: Women? MRS. MARTINEAU: Woman! JORDAN: Some women. MOLYNEUX: The election wasn’t lost on you, Jordan; you learnt to qualify.