SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Coldly.] Pray allow me to believe that you
are not.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Speaking with great deliberation and emphasis.] Ah!
but I am. And if you do what I ask you, I . . . will pay you very
handsomely!
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Pay me!
MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I am afraid I don't quite understand what you
mean.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Leaning back on the sofa and looking at him.] How
very disappointing! And I have come all the way from Vienna in order
that you should thoroughly understand me.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I fear I don't.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [In her most nonchalant manner.] My dear Sir Robert,
you are a man of the world, and you have your price, I suppose.
Everybody has nowadays. The drawback is that most people are so
dreadfully expensive. I know I am. I hope you will be more
reasonable in your terms.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Rises indignantly.] If you will allow me, I
will call your carriage for you. You have lived so long abroad, Mrs.
Cheveley, that you seem to be unable to realise that you are talking
to an English gentleman.
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Detains him by touching his arm with her fan, and
keeping it there while she is talking.] I realise that I am talking
to a man who laid the foundation of his fortune by selling to a Stock
Exchange speculator a Cabinet secret.
SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Biting his lip.
Pages:
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42