The Notorious Mrs. Ebbsmith

by Arthur Wing Pinero

ST. OLPHERTS. So I conclude. It gives our meeting a pleasant air of adventure.

AGNES. I shall tell him directly he returns.

ST. OLPHERTS. [Gallantly.] And destroy a cherished secret.

AGNES. You are an invalid. [Motioning him to be seated.] Pray don't stand. [Sitting.] Your Grace is a man who takes life lightly. It will relieve you to hear that I wish to keep sentiment out of any business we have together.

ST. OLPHERTS. I believe I haven't the reputation of being a sentimental man. [Seating himself.] You send for me, Mrs. Ebbsmith—

AGNES. To tell you I have come to regard the suggestion you were good enough to make a week ago—

ST. OLPHERTS. Suggestion?

AGNES. Shakespeare, the musical glasses, you know—

ST. OLPHERTS. Oh, yes. Ha! Ha!

AGNES. I've come to think it a reasonable one. At the moment I considered it a gross impertinence.