LATIMER. Yes, you want to get that off pat. You’ll have to say that a good deal, I expect. Well, to resume. I am sorry to see in the paper this morning that Beelzebub, upon whom I laid my shirt for the 2.30 race at Newmarket yesterday—and incidentally your shirt too, darling—came in last, some five minutes after the others had finished the course.... Tut, tut, how annoying! ANNE. Oh, my poor darling! LATIMER. The word “poor” is well chosen. We are ruined. I shall have to work. ANNE. You know what I _want_ you to do, Leonard? LATIMER. No, I have forgotten. ANNE (_seriously_). I should like to see you in the House of Lords, taking your rightful place as a leader of men, making great speeches. LATIMER. My dear Anne! I may be a peer, but I am not a dashed politician. ANNE (_wistfully_). I wish you were, Leonard. LATIMER. I will be anything you like, Anne. (_He leans towards her, half-serious, half-mocking._) ANNE (_with a little laugh_). How absurd you are! Some more coffee? LATIMER (_passing his cup_). To which I answer, “A little more milk.” Do you realise that this goes on for fifty years? ANNE. Well, and why not? LATIMER. Fifty years. A solemn thought. But do not let it mar our pleasure in the meal that we are having together now. Let us continue to talk gaily together. Tell me of any interesting dream you may have had last night—any little adventure that befell you in the bath—any bright thought that occurred to you as you were dressing. ANNE (_thoughtfully_). I had a very odd dream last night. LATIMER. I am longing to hear it, my love. ANNE. I dreamt that you and I were running away together, Leonard, and that we lost our way and came to what we thought was an hotel. But it was not an hotel. It was a very mysterious house, kept by a very mysterious man called Mr. Latimer. LATIMER. How very odd. Latimer? Latimer? No, I don’t seem to have heard of the fellow. ANNE. He told us that we were his prisoners. That we must stay in his house a week before we went on our way again. That all the doors were locked, and there were high walls round the garden, that the gates from the garden were locked, so that we could not escape, and that we must wait a week together in his house to see if we were really suited to each other. LATIMER. My dear, what an extraordinary dream! ANNE. It _was_ only a dream, wasn’t it? LATIMER. Of course! What is there mysterious about this house? What is there mysterious about this—er—Mr. Latimer? And as for any one being kept prisoner—here—in this respectable England—why! ANNE. It is absurd, isn’t it? LATIMER. Quite ridiculous. ANNE (_getting up—now she will show him_). I thought it was. (_She goes to the front door and turns the handle. To her surprise the door opens. But MR. LATIMER mustn’t know that she is surprised._) You see, I thought it was! (_She steps out into the garden._) You see, the gates are open too! (_She comes back._) What an absurd dream to have had! (_She sits down again._)