Philip.
No, no——
Ottoline.
I should. It's in my blood. I couldn't resist it. Whether you wrote as Jones, or Smith, or Robinson, you'd find Jones, Smith, or Robinson artfully puffed and paragraphed and thrust under people's noses in the papers. I'm an incurably vulgar woman, I tell you! [Snatching at her coat—harshly.] Ah, que je me connais; que je me connais!
[She fumbles for the arm-holes of her coat. He goes to her quickly and they stand holding the coat between them and looking at each other.
Philip.
[After a silence.] You—you're determined?
Ottoline.
Determined.
Philip.