Cedric. (Relieved. Affecting a cheerful irony.) What notions she does get into her head! My dear girl, nothing whatever has happened—so far as I know. Of course nothing could. My conversion, as you call it, is due simply and solely to my thinking things over.
Flora. Honour bright?
Cedric. (Firmly.) Certainly!... Then you really imagined I was capable of such a—you couldn't trust me——
Flora. It isn't you I couldn't trust. It's the human nature in you that I had my doubts about. It's always so apt to get the better of people, and make them play tricks they'd never dream of by themselves.
Cedric. (Shocked but forgiving.) Fluff!
Flora. (Somewhat coldly.) I'm only being man to man.
Cedric. Look here, Flora, it's barely twelve hours since that vulgar idiot Klopstock shoved himself into our honeymoon. Barely twelve hours. We were in love with each other up till then, weren't we? (Silence.) Weren't we?
Flora. (Primly.) Yes.
Cedric. Very much? (Silence.) I say very much?