If one could only teach the English how to
talk, and the Irish how to listen, society here would be quite
civilised. Besides, I have arrived at the romantic stage. When I
saw you last night at the Chilterns', I knew you were the only person
I had ever cared for, if I ever have cared for anybody, Arthur. And
so, on the morning of the day you marry me, I will give you Robert
Chiltern's letter. That is my offer. I will give it to you now, if
you promise to marry me.
LORD GORING. Now?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Smiling.] To-morrow.
LORD GORING. Are you really serious?
MRS. CHEVELEY. Yes, quite serious.
LORD GORING. I should make you a very bad husband.
MRS. CHEVELEY. I don't mind bad husbands. I have had two. They
amused me immensely.
LORD GORING. You mean that you amused yourself immensely, don't you?
MRS. CHEVELEY. What do you know about my married life?
LORD GORING. Nothing: but I can read it like a book.
MRS. CHEVELEY. What book?
LORD GORING. [Rising.] The Book of Numbers.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Do you think it is quite charming of you to be so
rude to a woman in your own house?
LORD GORING. In the case of very fascinating women, sex is a
challenge, not a defence.
MRS. CHEVELEY. I suppose that is meant for a compliment. My dear
Arthur, women are never disarmed by compliments. Men always are.
That is the difference between the two sexes.
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