Quex.

[Humouring her.] This romantic old garden! [pointing to the statuary] these silent witnesses—beholders, it is likely, of many similar scenes! the—the—setting sun! Could any situation be more appropriate?

Duchess.

But we are liable to be interrupted at any moment. The joint romance of our lives, Harry, ought not to end with a curt word and formal hand-shake in an exposed spot of this kind. [Sitting in the garden chair.] Oh, it cannot, must not, end so!

Quex.

[Eyeing her uneasily.] Frankly, I see nothing else for it.

Duchess.

I can't credit it. Why, what was the second reason for my coming here?

Quex.

Second reason?