The Second Mrs. Tanqueray: A Play in Four Acts

by Arthur Wing Pinero

Aubrey.

She's upstairs putting on a hat, I believe.

Mrs. Cortelyon.

[Sitting comfortably.] Ah! [She looks round: Drummle and Ellean are talking together in the hall.] We used to be very frank with each other, Aubrey. I suppose the old footing is no longer possible, eh?

Aubrey.

If so, I'm not entirely to blame, Mrs. Cortelyon.

Mrs. Cortelyon.

Mrs. Cortelyon? H'm! No, I admit it. But you must make some little allowance for me, Mr. Tanqueray. Your first wife and I, as girls, were like two cherries on one stalk, and then I was the confidential friend of your married life. That post, perhaps, wasn't altogether a sinecure. And now—well, when a woman gets to my age I suppose she's a stupid, prejudiced, conventional creature. However, I've got over it and—[giving him her hand]—I hope you'll be enormously happy and let me be a friend once more.

Aubrey.

Thank you, Alice.