MAUD. Well, Hypatia Prendergast! And how many admirers do you have around under vow, as a regular thing? HYP. There were only those two. Ruskin permits as many as seven at one time. MAUD. That's a vurry liberal allowance, too. I don't see how there'd be sufficient suitors to go round. But maybe each gentleman can be under vow for seven distinct girls, to make things sort of square now? HYP. Certainly not. The whole beauty of the idea lies in the unselfish and exclusive devotion of every knight to the same sovereign lady. In this case I happen to know that the--a--individual had never met his ideal until-- MAUD. Until he met you? At Nuremberg, wasn't it? My! And what was his name? Do tell! HYP. You must not press me, dear Maud, for I cannot tell that--even to you. MAUD. I don't believe but what I could guess. But say, you didn't care any for _him_, or you'd never have let him go like that? _I_ wouldn't. I should have suspected there was something behind! HYP. My feelings towards him were purely potential. I did him the simple justice to believe that his self-abnegation was sincere. But, with your practical, cynical little mind, darling, you are hardly capable of--excuse me for saying so--of appreciating the real value and meaning of such magnanimity! MAUD. Oh, I guess I _am_, though. Why, here's Mr. Culchard coming along. Well, Mr. Culchard? CULCH. I--ah--appear to have interrupted a highly interesting conversation? MAUD. Well, we were having a little discussion, and I guess you're in time to give the casting vote--Hypatia, you want to keep just where you are, do you hear? I mean you should listen to Mr. Culchard's opinion. CULCH. (_flattered_). Which I shall be delighted to give, if you will put me in possession of the--er--facts. MAUD. Well, these are the--er--facts. There were two gentlemen under vow--maybe you'll understand the working of that arrangement better than I do?--under vow for the same young lady. [Hypatia Prendergast, sit still, or I declare I'll pinch you!] One of them comes up and tells her that he's arrived at the conclusion the other admirer is the better man, and, being a friend of his, he ought to retire in his favour, and he does it, too, right away. Now _I_ say that isn't natural--he'd some other motive. Miss Prendergast here will have it he was one of those noble unselfish natures that deserve they should be stuffed for a dime museum. What's _your_ opinion now? CULCH. (_perspiring freely_). Why--er--really, on so delicate a matter, I--I---- [_He maunders._ HYP. Maud, why _will_ you be so headstrong! (_In a rapid whisper._) Can't you see ... can't you _guess_?... MAUD. I guess I want to make sure Mr. Culchard isn't that kind of magnanimous man himself. I shouldn't want him to renounce _me_! HYP. Maud! You might at _least_ wait until Mr. Culchard has----