[_As she goes out._] Archibald! continue your dear old self. [_Queckett enters by another door, Miss Dyott following him--both out of breath. They look at each other, recovering themselves?_] QUECKETT. I understand that you wish to speak to me, Caroline. MISS DYOTT. Oh, you--you paltry little man! You mean ungrateful little creature! You laced-up little heap of pompous pauperism! You--you--I cannot adequately describe you. Wretch! QUECKETT. [_Putting on his gloves again._] Have you finished with me, Caroline? Finished with you! I shall never have finished with you! Never till you leave me! QUECKETT. [_Rising._] Till I leave you? MISS DYOTT. Till you leave me a widow. QUECKETT. [_Resuming his seat, disappointed._] Oh! MISS DYOTT. You don't think I expect you to leave me anything else. Oh, what could I have seen in you! QUECKETT. I take it, Caroline, that, in the language of the hunting field, you "scented" a gentleman. MISS DYOTT. Scented a gentleman! In the few weeks of our marriage I have scented you and cigaretted you, wined you and liqueured you, tailored and hatted and booted you. I have darned and mended and washed you--gruelled you with a cold, tinctured you with a toothache, and linimented you with the gout. [_Fiercely._] Have I not? Have I not? QUECKETT. You certainly have had exceptional privileges. Familiarity appears to have fulfilled its usual functions and bred-- MISS DYOTT. The most utter contempt. Have I not paid your debts? QUECKETT. [_Promptly._] Not at my suggestion. MISS DYOTT. And all for what? QUECKETT. I assume, for Love's dear sake, Carrie. MISS DYOTT. For the sake of having the vestal seclusion of Volumnia College telegraphically denominated as Bachelor Diggings! QUECKETT. Any collection of young ladies may be so described. The description is happy but harmless. As for the subsequent conflagration-- MISS DYOTT. Don't talk about it! QUECKETT. I say with all sincerity that from the moment the fire broke out till I escaped no one regretted it more than myself. _That_ was Tyler! MISS DYOTT. Tyler! What Tyler! I make no historical reference when I say what Tyler was it who abruptly tore aside the veil of mystery which had hitherto shrouded the existence of champagne and lobster salad from four young girls! It was you! QUECKETT. No, it wasn't, Carrie, upon my word? MISS DYOTT. Bah! QUECKETT. Upon my honour! MISS DYOTT. [_ Witheringly._] Hah! QUECKETT. Those vexing pupils played the very devil with me. After you left, the pupils, as it were, dilated. MISS DYOTT. Yes, and you ordered them champagne glasses, I suppose! Oh, deceiver! QUECKETT. You talk of deception! What about the three o'clock train from Paddington? MISS DYOTT. It was the whole truth--there was one. QUECKETT. But you didn't travel in it! What about the clergyman's wife at Hereford? MISS DYOTT. Go there--you will find several! QUECKETT.