MRS. CULVER ( quietly taking the vase from him and putting it down ). Arthur, I could have forgiven you everything. What do I care—really—about a title? ( Falsely .) I only care for your happiness. But I can't forgive you for having laid a trap for me last night—and in front of the children and a stranger too.
CULVER. Laid a trap for you?
MRS. CULVER. You knew all about the title when you first came in last night and you deliberately led me on.
CULVER. Oh! That! Ah well! One does what one can. You've laid many a trap for me, my girl. You're still about ten up and two to play in the trap game.
MRS. CULVER. I've never laid a trap for you.
CULVER. Fibster! Come here. (Mrs. Culver hesitates .) Come hither—and be kissed. ( She
approaches submissively, and then, standing like a marble statue, allows herself to be kissed . Culver assumes the attitude of the triumphant magnanimous male .) There! That's all right.
MRS. CULVER ( having moved away; still very sweetly and coldly ). Can I do anything else for you before I go to bed?
CULVER ( ignoring the question; grandly and tolerantly ). Do you suppose, my marble statue, that after all I've said at the Club about the rascality of this Honours business, I could ever have appeared there as a New Year Baronet? The thing's unthinkable. Why, I should have had to resign and join another Club!
MRS. CULVER ( calmly and severely ). So that's it, is it? I might have known what was really at the bottom of it all. Your Club again! You have to choose between your wife and your Club, and of course it's your wife that must suffer. Naturally!