Thank you. Come.
LORD ILLINGWORTH. [Sees MRS. ARBUTHNOT'S letter on table,
and takes it up and looks at envelope.] What a curious handwriting!
It reminds me of the handwriting of a woman I used to know years
ago.
MRS. ALLONBY. Who?
LORD ILLINGWORTH. Oh! no one. No one in particular. A woman of
no importance. [Throws letter down, and passes up the steps of the
terrace with MRS. ALLONBY. They smile at each other.]
ACT DROP.
SECOND ACT
SCENE
Drawing-room at Hunstanton, after dinner, lamps lit. Door L.C.
Door R.C.
[Ladies seated on sofas.]
MRS. ALLONBY. What a comfort it is to have got rid of the men
for a little!
LADY STUTFIELD. Yes; men persecute us dreadfully, don't
they?
MRS. ALLONBY. Persecute us? I wish they did.
LADY HUNSTANTON. My dear!
MRS. ALLONBY. The annoying thing is that the wretches can be
perfectly happy without us. That is why I think it is every
woman's duty never to leave them alone for a single moment,
except during this short breathing space after dinner; without
which I believe we poor women would be absolutely worn to
shadows.
[Enter Servants with coffee.]
LADY HUNSTANTON. Worn to shadows, dear?
MRS. ALLONBY. Yes, Lady Hunstanton. It is such a strain keeping
men up to the mark. They are always trying to escape from us.
LADY STUTFIELD. It seems to me that it is we who are always
trying to escape from them. Men are so very, very heartless. They
know their power and use it.
LADY CAROLINE.
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