I always pass on good
advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use
to oneself.
MABEL CHILTERN. Lord Goring, you are always ordering me out of the
room. I think it most courageous of you. Especially as I am not
going to bed for hours. [Goes over to the sofa.] You can come and
sit down if you like, and talk about anything in the world, except
the Royal Academy, Mrs. Cheveley, or novels in Scotch dialect. They
are not improving subjects. [Catches sight of something that is
lying on the sofa half hidden by the cushion.] What is this? Some
one has dropped a diamond brooch! Quite beautiful, isn't it? [Shows
it to him.] I wish it was mine, but Gertrude won't let me wear
anything but pearls, and I am thoroughly sick of pearls. They make
one look so plain, so good and so intellectual. I wonder whom the
brooch belongs to.
LORD GORING. I wonder who dropped it.
MABEL CHILTERN. It is a beautiful brooch.
LORD GORING. It is a handsome bracelet.
MABEL CHILTERN. It isn't a bracelet. It's a brooch.
LORD GORING. It can be used as a bracelet. [Takes it from her, and,
pulling out a green letter-case, puts the ornament carefully in it,
and replaces the whole thing in his breast-pocket with the most
perfect sang froid.]
MABEL CHILTERN. What are you doing?
LORD GORING. Miss Mabel, I am going to make a rather strange request
to you.
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