DOROTHEA. Now, Dorothy, be reasonable. Sit down
Like a well-mannered girl, or—if you must—
Crouch like a tigress there and fret and frown,
But don't break in. I think it's only just
That I—for, after all, I really am
The civilized and reputable Miss Wylde—
Should have the answering of this telegram.
Say what you will, you're nothing but a child
Who lies among the daffodils of Spring,
Lost in a book of marvels. At a glance
I know you—how you're dreaming of some king
From over the blue mountains of romance
Who'll set you on a charger black as night,
And, spurring on by dragon-haunted caves,
Come to his castle just when the sunset-light
In Fairyland floats on the girdling waves.
But kings aren't like that now. They puff cigars,
Wear bowlers and check-suits, and fill the gaps
Left between opening Parliament and bazaars
By betting on the racecourse. Or perhaps
You want some hero from a Conrad tale
Who'd stand, white-ducked, against the torrid blue
And shoot down tribes with bullets fast as hail:
But think, my dear—he simply wouldn't do.
Picture it. We should take him out to dine—
The ladies would withdraw—he'd start to speak
About old Lingard, while they passed the wine,
And go on with the story for a week.
No! We must have it clear. I much regret
This violent tug-of-war between our aims
But—I'm determined.
DOROTHY.Have you finished yet?
Right. Then you can, but I won't, marry James.
DOROTHEA. Why not?
DOROTHY. Why not? Answer my questions. One:
Does he beat time to music with his hand?
DOROTHEA. Well——
DOROTHY. Two: and talk of 'featuring,' 'Japs,' 'the Hun'?
DOROTHEA. Oh, sometimes——
DOROTHY.Three: and does he understand
That wicked frocks don't mean a wicked life?
Four——
DOROTHEA. But, of course, there's no one perfect!
DOROTHY.Four:
Wouldn't he read the golf news to his wife?
Five: Can he tell—the next day—what you wore?
Six: If he knows an author, will he wait
To get a copy free or buy the book?
Seven: Is he fond of curate stories? Eight:
If, when you're dressed, you wonder how you look
And ask him, as you're driving to the dance,
Doesn't he, after everything you've done,
Say 'Oh, all right'—without a single glance?
Nine: If you flirt a little, for the fun
Of being a woman, would he think you light?
Ten: Does he say, when dining in Soho,
'I don't think we shall need champagne to-night—
But if you really want it, let me know?'
Eleven——