Flora. (Recovering herself sweetly.) It's I who beg yours. For the moment I was forgetting that "common superficial politeness" that you ranked with common-sense.
Cedric. My dear child, everything's all right. The honeymoon shall not be shortened by a single day. Everything's absolutely all right.
Flora. (Shakes her head.) It isn't. You're only giving way to please me.
Cedric. Well, really—— (laughing).
Flora. Cedric. Honestly. Yes or no. Do you think I ought to yield to the aeroplane?
Cedric. (They look at each other.) I think you oughtn't to ask quite such questions?
Flora. (Agreeing.) No. Such questions ought to be asked earlier. But human nature is so—human, that probably it wouldn't be any use asking them any earlier. They might even be considered rude. In fact, it is considered rude for fiancés to worry each other with any questions that really matter. (Pause. In a vague voice.) Whether you prefer a flat or a house, and the colour of the drawing-room chairs—that's about as far as you are supposed to go. (Another pause.) Well?
Cedric. (Approaching her.) What?
Flora. Do you think I ought to yield to the aeroplane?