Cheveley, but myself? That it was I whom you thought was
concealed in a room in your house, at half-past ten o'clock at night?
You want me to tell him that?
LORD GORING. I think it is better that he should know the exact
truth.
LADY CHILTERN. [Rising.] Oh, I couldn't, I couldn't!
LORD GORING. May I do it?
LADY CHILTERN. No.
LORD GORING. [Gravely.] You are wrong, Lady Chiltern.
LADY CHILTERN. No. The letter must be intercepted. That is all.
But how can I do it? Letters arrive for him every moment of the day.
His secretaries open them and hand them to him. I dare not ask the
servants to bring me his letters. It would be impossible. Oh! why
don't you tell me what to do?
LORD GORING. Pray be calm, Lady Chiltern, and answer the questions I
am going to put to you. You said his secretaries open his letters.
LADY CHILTERN. Yes.
LORD GORING. Who is with him to-day? Mr. Trafford, isn't it?
LADY CHILTERN. No. Mr. Montford, I think.
LORD GORING. You can trust him?
LADY CHILTERN. [With a gesture of despair.] Oh! how do I know?
LORD GORING. He would do what you asked him, wouldn't he?
LADY CHILTERN. I think so.
LORD GORING. Your letter was on pink paper. He could recognise it
without reading it, couldn't he? By the colour?
LADY CHILTERN. I suppose so.
LORD GORING. Is he in the house now?
LADY CHILTERN. Yes.
LORD GORING.
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