MITCHENER. Certainly I am in earnest. Most indignantly in earnest.
LADY CORINTHIA (throwing down the pistol contemptuously). Then you have no temperament; you are not an artist. You have no soul for music.
MITCHENER. Ive subscribed to the regimental band all my life. I bought two sarrusophones for it out of my own pocket. When I sang Tosti's Goodbye for Ever at Knightsbridge in 1880, the whole regiment wept. You are too young to remember that.
LADY CORINTHIA. Your advances are useless. I—
MITCHENER. Confound it, madam, can you not receive an innocent compliment without suspecting me of dishonorable intentions?
LADY CORINTHIA. Love—real love—makes all intentions honorable. But YOU could never understand that.
MITCHENER. Ill not submit to the vulgar penny-novelette notion that an officer is less honorable than a civilian in his relations with women. While I live Ill raise my voice—
LADY CORINTHIA. Tush!
MITCHENER. What do you mean by tush?
LADY CORINTHIA. You cant raise your voice above its natural compass. What sort of voice have you?