ANN. [with conviction] Tavy: I wouldn't for worlds destroy your illusions. I can neither take you nor let you go. I can see exactly what will suit you. You must be a sentimental old bachelor for my sake.
OCTAVIUS. [desperately] Ann: I'll kill myself.
ANN. Oh no you won't: that wouldn't be kind. You won't have a bad time. You will be very nice to women; and you will go a good deal to the opera. A broken heart is a very pleasant complaint for a man in London if he has a comfortable income.
OCTAVIUS. [considerably cooled, but believing that he is only recovering his self-control] I know you mean to be kind, Ann. Jack has persuaded you that cynicism is a good tonic for me. [He rises with quiet dignity].
ANN. [studying him slyly] You see, I'm disillusionizing you already. That's what I dread.
OCTAVIUS. You do not dread disillusionizing Jack.
ANN. [her face lighting up with mischievous ecstasy—whispering] I can't: he has no illusions about me. I shall surprise Jack the other way. Getting over an unfavorable impression is ever so much easier than living up to an ideal. Oh, I shall enrapture Jack sometimes!
OCTAVIUS. [resuming the calm phase of despair, and beginning to enjoy his broken heart and delicate attitude without knowing it] I don't doubt that. You will enrapture him always. And he—the fool!—thinks you would make him wretched.
ANN. Yes: that's the difficulty, so far.
OCTAVIUS. [heroically] Shall I tell him that you love him?