HILDEGARDE. Since then it's developed on normal lines. What do you think of it? TRANTO. I adore your mother, but I think your father's quite right. HILDEGARDE. Well, naturally! I take that for granted. I was expecting something rather more original. TRANTO. You shall have it. I think that you and I are very largely responsible for the situation. I think our joint responsibility binds us inextricably together. HILDEGARDE. Mr. Tranto! TRANTO. Certainly. There's no doubt in my mind that your father was enormously influenced by Sampson Straight's article on the Honours scandal. In fact he told me so. And seeing that you wrote it and I published it-- HILDEGARDE (_alarmed_). You didn't tell him I'm Sampson Straight? TRANTO. Can you imagine me doing such a thing? HILDEGARDE. I hope not. Shall I tell you what _I_ think of the situation? TRANTO. I wish you would. HILDEGARDE. I think such situations would never arise if parents weren't so painfully unromantic. I'm not speaking particularly of papa and mamma. I mean all parents. But take mamma. She's absolutely matter-of-fact. And papa's nearly as bad. Of course I know they're always calling each other by pet names; but that's mere camouflage for their matter-of-factness. Whereas if they both had in them a little of the real romance of life--everything would be different. At the same time I needn't say that in this affair that we're now in the middle of--there's no question of ratiocination. TRANTO. Of what? HILDEGARDE. Ratiocination. Reasoning. On either side. TRANTO. Oh no! HILDEGARDE. It's simply a question of mutual attitude, isn't it? Now, if only--. But there! What's the use? Parents are like that, poor dears! They have forgotten! (_With emphasis_.) They have forgotten--what makes life worth living. TRANTO. You mean, for instance, your mother never sits on your father's knee. HILDEGARDE (_bravely, after hesitation_). Yes! Crudely--that's what I do mean. TRANTO. Miss Hildegarde, you are the most marvellous girl I ever met. You are, really! You seem to combine all qualities. It's amazing to me. I'm more and more astounded. Every time I come here there's a fresh revelation. Now you mention romance. I'm glad you mentioned it first. But I _saw_ it first. I saw it in your eyes the first time I ever met you. Yes! Miss Hilda, do you see it in mine? Look. Look closely. (_Approaching her_.) Because it's there. I must tell you. I can't wait any longer. (_Feeling for her hand, vainly_.) HILDEGARDE (_drawing back_). Mr. Tranto, is this the way you treat father? _Enter_ Mr. Culver, _back_. CULVER (_quickly_). Hilda, go to your mother. She's upstairs. HILDEGARDE. What am I to do? CULVER. I don't know. (_With meaning_.) Think what the sagacious Sampson Straight would do, and do that. (Hildegarde _gives a sharp look first at_ Culver, _and then at_ Tranto, _and exit, back_.) CULVER (_turning to_ Tranto). My dear fellow, the war is practically over.