MELISANDE (offering her cheek). You may kiss me if you like, Bobby.

BOBBY. I say! . . . Er--er--(he kisses her gingerly) thanks! . . . Er--I say----

MELISANDE. What is it, Bobby?

BOBBY. I say, you know--(he tries again) I don't want you to--to feel that--I mean, just because I asked you twice--I mean I don't want you to feel that--well, I mean you mustn't do it just for _my_ sake, Sandy. I mean Melisande.

MELISANDE. You may call me Sandy.

BOBBY. Well, you see what I mean, Sandy.

MELISANDE. It isn't that, Bobby. It isn't that.

BOBBY. You know, I was thinking about it last night--afterwards, you know--and I began to see, I began to see that perhaps you were right.

I mean about my not being romantic and--and all that. I mean, I'm rather an ordinary sort of chap, and----

MELISANDE (sadly). We are all rather ordinary sort of chaps.

BOBBY (eagerly). No, no. No, that's where you're wrong, Sandy. I mean Melisande. You _aren't_ ordinary. I don't say you'd be throwing yourself away on me, but--but I think you could find somebody more suitable. (Earnestly). I'm sure you could. I mean somebody who would remember to call you Melisande, and who would read poetry with you and--and all that. I mean, there are lots of fellows----

MELISANDE. I don't understand. Don't you _want_ to marry me now?

BOBBY (with dignity). I don't want to be married out of pity.

MELISANDE (coldly). I have told you that it isn't out of pity.

BOBBY. Well, what _is_ it out of? I mean, after what you said yesterday about my tie, it can't be love. If you really loved me----

MELISANDE. Are you under the impression that I am proposing to you?

BOBBY (taken aback). W-what?

MELISANDE. Are you flattering yourself that you are refusing me?

BOBBY. I say, shut up, Sandy. You know it isn't that at all.

MELISANDE. I think you had better join Jane. (Carelessly) It _is_ Jane, isn't it?

BOBBY. I say, look here---- (She doesn't) Of course, I know you think I'm an awful rotter. . . . Well . . . well--oh, _d.a.m.n_!

MELISANDE. Jane is waiting for you.

(MRS. KNOWLE comes in.)

MRS. KNOWLE. Oh, Mr. Coote, Jane is waiting for you.

BOBBY. Oh--er----

MELISANDE. Jane is waiting for you.

BOBBY (realising that he is not quite at his best). Er--oh--er, righto. (He goes to the door and hesitates there) Er--(Now if he can only think of something really good, he may yet carry it off.) Er--(something really witty)--er--er, righto! (He goes out--to join JANE, who is waiting for him.)

MRS. KNOWLE (in a soft gentle voice). Where is your father, dear? In the library with Mr. Mallory? . . . I want to speak to him. Just on a little matter of business. . . . Dear child!

[She goes to the library.

MELISANDE. Oh! How horrible!

(She walks about, pulling at her handkerchief and telling herself that she won't cry. But she feels that she is going to, and she goes to the open windows, and stands for a moment looking out, trying to recover herself)

(GERVASE comes in.)

GERVASE (gently). Princess! (She hears; her hand closes and tightens; but she says nothing.) Princess!

(With an effort she controls herself, turns round and speaks coldly)

MELISANDE. Please don't call me by that ridiculous name.

GERVASE. Melisande!

MELISANDE. Nor by that one.

GERVASE. Miss Knowle.

MELISANDE. Yes? What do you want, Mr. Mallory?

GERVASE. I want to marry you.

MELISANDE (taken by surprise). Oh! . . . How dare you!

GERVASE. But I told you this morning.

MELISANDE. I think you had better leave this morning out of it.

GERVASE. But if I leave this morning out of it, then I have only just met you.

MELISANDE. That is what I would prefer.

GERVASE. Oh! . . . Then if I have only just met you, perhaps I oughtn't to have said straight off that I want to marry you.

MELISANDE. It is unusual.

GERVASE. Yes. But not unusual to _want_ to marry you.

MELISANDE. I am not interested in your wants.

GERVASE. Oh! (Gently) I'm sorry that we've got to forget about this morning. (Going closer to her) Is it so easy to forget, Melisande?