CULVER. Oh! That! Ah well! One does what one can. You've laid many a trap for me, my girl. You're still about ten up and two to play in the trap game. MRS. CULVER. I've never laid a trap for you. CULVER. Fibster! Come here. (Mrs. Culver _hesitates_.) Come hither--and be kissed. (_She_ _approaches submissively, and then, standing like a marble statue, allows herself to be kissed_. Culver _assumes the attitude of the triumphant magnanimous male_.) There! That's all right. MRS. CULVER (_having moved away; still very sweetly and coldly_). Can I do anything else for you before I go to bed? CULVER (_ignoring the question; grandly and tolerantly_). Do you suppose, my marble statue, that after all I've said at the Club about the rascality of this Honours business, I could ever have appeared there as a New Year Baronet? The thing's unthinkable. Why, I should have had to resign and join another Club! MRS. CULVER (_calmly and severely_). So that's it, is it? I might have known what was really at the bottom of it all. Your Club again! You have to choose between your wife and your Club, and of course it's your wife that must suffer. Naturally! CULVER. Go on! You'll be saying next that I've committed bigamy with my Club. MRS. CULVER (_with youthful vivacity_). I'm an old woman-- CULVER (_flatteringly_). Yes, look at you! Hag! When I fell in love with you your hair was still down. The marvel to me is that I ever let you put it up. MRS. CULVER. I'm only an old woman now. You have had the best part of my life. You might have given me great pleasure with this title. But no! Your Club comes first. And what a child you are! As if there's one single member of your Club who wouldn't envy you your baronetcy! However, I've nothing more to say. (_Moving towards the door, back_.) Oh yes, I have. (_Casually_.) I've decided to go away to-morrow and stay with grandma for a long holiday. She needs me, and if I'm not to break down entirely I must have a change. I've told Hildegarde our--arrangements. The poor girl's terribly upset. Please don't disturb me in the morning. I shall take the noon train. Good-night. CULVER. Hermione! MRS. CULVER (_returning a little from the direction of the door, submissively_). Yes, Arthur. CULVER. If you keep on playing the martyr much longer there will be bloodshed, and you'll know what martyrdom is. MRS. CULVER (_in a slightly relenting tone_). Arthur, you were always conscientious. Your conscience is working. CULVER. I have no conscience. Never had. MRS. CULVER (_persuasively, and with much charm_). Yes you have, and it's urging you to give way to your sensible little wife. You know you're only bluffing. CULVER. Indeed I'm not. MRS. CULVER. Yes, you are. Mr. Tranto advised you to give way, and you think such a lot of his opinion. CULVER. Who told you Tranto advised me to give way? MRS. CULVER. He did. CULVER. Damn him! MRS. CULVER (_soothingly_). Yes, yes. CULVER. No, no!