Charles. I hear. But why?
Cedric. Never mind why.
Charles. But the newsagent will deliver the mater's copy here at eight o'clock, and by half-past eight you may bet everybody in the place——
Cedric. I'm going to do something long before eight o'clock.
Charles. What are you going to do?
Cedric. I'm going to see Flora, and tell her I've altered my view completely. If she knew I'd seen the paper she'd be bound to think I'd only come round because of that, and she wouldn't listen to me—don't you see, idiot?
Charles. I see. But haven't you altered your view because of that?
Cedric. (Coldly.) What's that got to do with you? The point is that at any rate I can go honeymooning now with a free mind. That's the point.
Charles. And do you reckon all this'll be on the straight?