MRS. G. I _won't_ be called those sporting pet names, bad boy.

CAPT. G. You'll be called anything I choose. Has it ever occurred to you, Madam, that you are my Wife?

MRS. G. It has. I haven't ceased wondering at it yet.

CAPT. G. Nor I. It seems so strange; and yet, somehow, it doesn't.

(_Confidently._) You see, it could have been no one else.

MRS. G. (_Softly._) No. No one else--for me or for you. It must have been _all_ arranged from the beginning. Phil, tell me again what made you care for me.

CAPT. G. How could I help it? You were _you_, you know.

MRS. G. Did you ever want to help it? Speak the truth!

CAPT. G. (_A twinkle in his eye._) I did, darling, just at the first.

But only at the very first. (_Chuckles._) I called you--stoop low and I'll whisper--'a little beast.' Ho! Ho! Ho!

MRS. G. (_Taking him by the moustache and making him sit up._) 'A--little--beast!' Stop laughing over your crime! And yet you had the--the--awful cheek to propose to me!

CAPT. G. I'd changed my mind then. And you weren't a little beast any more.

MRS. G. Thank you, Sir! And when was I ever?

CAPT. G. _Never!_ But that first day, when you gave me tea in that peach-coloured muslin gown thing, you looked--you did indeed, dear--such an absurd little mite. And I didn't know what to say to you.

MRS. G. (_Twisting moustache._) So you said 'little beast.' Upon my word, Sir! _I_ called _you_ a 'Crrrreature,' but I wish now I had called you something worse.

CAPT. G. (_Very meekly._) I apologise, but you're hurting me awf'ly.

(_Interlude._) You're welcome to torture me again on those terms.

MRS. G. Oh, _why_ did you let me do it?

CAPT. G. (_Looking across valley._) No reason in particular, but--if it amused you or did you any good--you might--wipe those dear little boots of yours on me.

MRS. G. (_Stretching out her hands._) Don't! Oh, don't! Philip, my King, _please_ don't talk like that. It's how _I_ feel. You're so much too good for me. So much too good!

CAPT. G. Me! I'm not fit to put my arm round you. (_Puts it round._)

MRS. G. Yes, you are. But I--what have I ever done?

CAPT. G. Given me a wee bit of your heart, haven't you, my Queen?

MRS. G. _That's_ nothing. Any one would do _that._ They cou--couldn't help it.

CAPT. G. p.u.s.s.y, you'll make me horribly conceited. Just when I was beginning to feel so humble, too.

MRS. G. Humble! I don't believe it's in your character.

CAPT. G. What do you know of my character, Impertinence?

MRS. G. Ah, but I shall, shan't I, Phil? I shall have time in all the years and years to come, to know everything about you; and there will be no secrets between us.

CAPT. G. Little witch! I believe you know me thoroughly already.

MRS. G. I think I can guess. You're selfish?

CAPT. G. Yes.

MRS. G. Foolish?

CAPT. G. _Very._

MRS. G. And a dear?

CAPT. G. That is as my lady pleases.

MRS. G. Then your lady _is_ pleased. (_A pause._) D'you know that we're two solemn, serious, grown-up people--

CAPT. G. (_Tilting her straw hat over her eyes._) You grown-up! Pooh!

You're a baby.

MRS. G. And we're talking nonsense.

CAPT. G. Then let's go on talking nonsense. I rather like it. p.u.s.s.y, I'll tell you a secret. Promise not to repeat?

MRS. G. Ye--es. Only to you.

CAPT. G. I love you.

MRS. G. Re-ally! For how long?

CAPT. G. For ever and ever.

MRS. G. That's a long time.

CAPT. G. 'Think so? It's the shortest _I_ can do with.

MRS. G. You're getting quite clever.

CAPT. G. I'm talking to _you._

MRS. G. Prettily turned. Hold up your stupid old head and I'll pay you for it!

CAPT. G. (_Affecting supreme contempt._) Take it yourself if you want it.

MRS. G. I've a great mind to--and I will! (_Takes it and is repaid with interest._)

CAPT. G. Little Featherweight, it's my opinion that we _are_ a couple of idiots.