And they are always being caught.
[Looks about room and approaches the writing-table.] What a very
interesting room! What a very interesting picture! Wonder what his
correspondence is like. [Takes up letters.] Oh, what a very
uninteresting correspondence! Bills and cards, debts and dowagers!
Who on earth writes to him on pink paper? How silly to write on pink
paper! It looks like the beginning of a middle-class romance.
Romance should never begin with sentiment. It should begin with
science and end with a settlement. [Puts letter down, then takes it
up again.] I know that handwriting. That is Gertrude Chiltern's. I
remember it perfectly. The ten commandments in every stroke of the
pen, and the moral law all over the page. Wonder what Gertrude is
writing to him about? Something horrid about me, I suppose. How I
detest that woman! [Reads it.] 'I trust you. I want you. I am
coming to you. Gertrude.' 'I trust you. I want you. I am coming
to you.'
[A look of triumph comes over her face. She is just about to steal
the letter, when PHIPPS comes in.]
PHIPPS. The candles in the drawing-room are lit, madam, as you
directed.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Thank you. [Rises hastily and slips the letter under
a large silver-cased blotting-book that is lying on the table.]
PHIPPS. I trust the shades will be to your liking, madam. They are
the most becoming we have.
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