SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Believe me, Mrs. Cheveley, it is a swindle.
Let us call things by their proper names. It makes matters simpler.
We have all the information about it at the Foreign Office. In fact,
I sent out a special Commission to inquire into the matter privately,
and they report that the works are hardly begun, and as for the money
already subscribed, no one seems to know what has become of it. The
whole thing is a second Panama, and with not a quarter of the chance
of success that miserable affair ever had. I hope you have not
invested in it. I am sure you are far too clever to have done that.
MRS. CHEVELEY. I have invested very largely in it.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Who could have advised you to do such a foolish
thing?
MRS. CHEVELEY. Your old friend - and mine.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Who?
MRS. CHEVELEY. Baron Arnheim.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Frowning.] Ah! yes. I remember hearing, at
the time of his death, that he had been mixed up in the whole affair.
MRS. CHEVELEY. It was his last romance. His last but one, to do him
justice.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Rising.] But you have not seen my Corots yet.
They are in the music-room. Corots seem to go with music, don't
they? May I show them to you?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Shaking her head.] I am not in a mood to-night for
silver twilights, or rose-pink dawns. I want to talk business.
[Motions to him with her fan to sit down again beside her.
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