NORWOOD. I—I—
DENNIS (turning to him). You don't think so, do you?
NORWOOD. I—I—
DENNIS. No, I'm quite sure you're right. It wouldn't really help. It is difficult, isn't it? You see (to KATE) you love him—(he waits a moment for her to say it if she will, but she only looks at him)—and he says he loves you, but at the same time I am your husband. . . . (He walks up and down thoughtfully, and then says suddenly to NORWOOD) I'll tell you what—I'll fight you for her.
NORWOOD (trying to be firm). I think we'd better leave this eighteenth-century nonsense out of it.
DENNIS (pleasantly). They fight in the twentieth century, too, Mr. Norwood. Perhaps you hadn't heard what we've been doing these last four years? Oh, quite a lot of it. . . . Well?
NORWOOD. You don't wish me to believe that you're serious?
DENNIS. Perfectly. Swords, pistols, fists, catch-as-catch-can—what would you like?
NORWOOD. I do not propose to indulge in an undignified scuffle for the—er—lady of my heart.
DENNIS (cheerfully). Nothing doing in scuffles, eh? All right, then, I'll toss you for her.