Flora. I felt almost effusive.
Charles. But don't you think he's off his nut?
Flora. Whatever he is, he's saved me from something that's rather awful to think about.
Mrs. R. Haslam. He's what?
Flora. I may as well tell you now—Cedric and I aren't going to get married to-morrow.
Mrs. R. Haslam. Not going to—— (stops). But you've just arranged with the Bishop!
Flora. I know. But that was simply my cowardice. The truth is I hadn't the heart to tell him. I felt that we could express ourselves more comfortably in a telegram than by word of mouth.
Mrs. R. Haslam. We! But—but what's wrong with to-morrow, Flora?
Flora. Nothing. It's no worse than any other day. Only we aren't going to get married at all.
Mrs. R. Haslam. But you are married—practically. I mean——