[Suddenly serious.] What the devil are you laughing at, George? You don’t presume——
Gunning.
I—why, of course not, my dear chap. Only now you see how wise I was not to intrude after your marriage, not to wait for my congé as the other poor boys did! I knew something.
Parbury.
You always did, you brute! I believe you were born knowing something. [Leans on back of sofa.] But seriously [lowers his voice], George, I assure you she’s the best little woman in the world!
Gunning.
Why, of course; it would be impious to suggest otherwise.
[Exit Miss Woodward.
[His eyes follow her off.] A perfect wife, and a charming secretary! You’re a lucky fellow, Clement!