Miss Woodward.
Your wife, Mr. Gunning?
Gunning.
It may appear sudden and cold-blooded—but your cab is coming.
Miss Woodward.
You’ve taken my breath away. How exciting it is when it does come. I really don’t know what to say. I know there is a usual thing. It isn’t “To what am I indebted for this honour,” is it?
Gunning.
I don’t know. I’ve never asked a girl before.
Miss Woodward.
We don’t know each other in the least.