Nothing spoils a romance so much as a sense of humour in
the woman.
MRS. ALLONBY. Or the want of it in the man.
LORD ILLINGWORTH. You are quite right. In a Temple every one
should be serious, except the thing that is worshipped.
MRS. ALLONBY. And that should be man?
LORD ILLINGWORTH. Women kneel so gracefully; men don't.
MRS. ALLONBY. You are thinking of Lady Stutfield!
LORD ILLINGWORTH. I assure you I have not thought of Lady
Stutfield for the last quarter of an hour.
MRS. ALLONBY. Is she such a mystery?
LORD ILLINGWORTH. She is more than a mystery - she is a
mood.
MRS. ALLONBY. Moods don't last.
LORD ILLINGWORTH. It is their chief charm.
[Enter HESTER and GERALD.]
GERALD. Lord Illingworth, every one has been congratulating me,
Lady Hunstanton and Lady Caroline, and . . . every one. I hope I
shall make a good secretary.
LORD ILLINGWORTH. You will be the pattern secretary, Gerald.
[Talks to him.]
MRS. ALLONBY. You enjoy country life, Miss Worsley?
HESTER. Very much indeed.
MRS. ALLONBY. Don't find yourself longing for a London
dinner- party?
HESTER. I dislike London dinner-parties.
MRS. ALLONBY.
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