Getting on for three weeks.
Drummle.
Bless me, it must be! And this would have been such a night to have healed it! Moonlight, the stars, the scent of flowers; and yet enough darkness to enable a kind woman to rest her hand for an instant on the arm of a good fellow who loves her. Ah, ha! it's a wonderful power, dear Mrs. Aubrey, the power of an offended woman! Only realise it! Just that one touch—the mere tips of her fingers—and, for herself and another, she changes the colour of the whole world!
Paula.
[Turning to him, calmly.] Cayley, my dear man, you talk exactly like a very romantic old lady.
[She leaves the window and sits playing with the knick-knacks on the table.
Drummle.
[To himself.] H'm, that hasn't done it! Well—ha, ha!—I accept the suggestion. An old woman, eh?
Paula.
Oh, I didn't intend——