LADY TORMINSTER. [Clapping her hands in glee.] There! I've said it! Oh, it's such a relief! I never have before, and I don't suppose I ever shall again—for whom can I say it to but you? Listen—I tell you—quite entre nous—he bores me shockingly!
SIR GEOFFREY. [In positive distress.] Lady Torminster! I beg of you!
LADY TORMINSTER. [Cheerfully.] The best fellow in all the world, and he bores me. A heart of gold, a model husband, a perfect father—and a bore, bore, bore! There! I assure you I feel better.
SIR GEOFFREY. I suppose there are moments when every woman says that of every man.
LADY TORMINSTER. [Fanning herself.] My dear Geoffrey, please send for your soul; it has wandered off somewhere, and I don't like talking to copybooks.
SIR GEOFFREY. [Doggedly.] You are talking to Jack's friend.
LADY TORMINSTER. Jack's friend—and mine—don't forget that! And could I say these things about Jack to any one else, and can't you conceive what a joy it is to say them? Besides, aren't we just now on the rim of the world—aren't we a little more than ourselves—aren't we almost on the other side of things? If we ever meet again, we shall look curiously at each other, and wonder, was it all true? As it is, I am scarcely sure that you are real. Everything is so still, so strange. Jack! He is up there, of course, the dear boy, his big red face pressed on the pillow. Oh, Geoffrey, when Jack brought you to me, and I was engaged—if you only hadn't been so loyal!
SIR GEOFFREY. [Grimly.] Do you know what you are saying?
LADY TORMINSTER. I am saying the things a woman says once in a lifetime, and feels all her life. Oh, it was all so simple! You loved me—you … were blind because of Jack … And I married Jack … I mustn't complain … I am one of the hundreds of women who marry—Jacks.
SIR GEOFFREY. A better, finer man never lived.