Douglas. I love her.
Fletcher. That's no news to anybody!
Douglas. And I don't intend she shall marry a— [He stops. Short pause.
Fletcher. What? Why don't you finish?
Douglas. [More quietly.] A man like you.
Fletcher. Oh, I'm not so very unique; lots of girls run the risk of marrying a man like me!
Douglas. I suppose you told her she is more to you than any one in the world.
Fletcher. No. "Men like me" don't talk that rot. I put my arms around her— [Stops, interrupted by the movement of Douglas, expressive of rage, controlled instantaneously; he clenches his fists. Finishes with a half-smile at Douglas.] And told her I loved her.
Douglas. [Suppressed anger.] You couldn't say she was more than any one else to you, because it would have been a lie!
Fletcher. [Smiling.] You flatter me. [Crosses to left.