Douglas. He is the one person she would listen to, and he can verify what I say.
Fletcher. [Change of tone, showing he fears this.] Damn it! I mean to be a decent man.
Douglas. [Goes close to him and looks straight in his face.] Then go to Jeannette Gros and marry her!
Fletcher. [Angry again.] Go to H—. [Change of tone.] You think if I'm out of the way you'll get her?
Douglas. She's told me she doesn't love me, and she proved to me that she won't believe the truth of you without extraordinary proof. There is only one person in the world who could naturally interfere and give her anything like that proof, and that's her father; and I shall tell him to-night, before I leave this house, before you can announce your engagement!
Fletcher. With Miss Wolton's permission, I will announce our engagement to-night, in spite of you, and her father. [Music stops. Enter Mrs. Lorrimer, with a favour, lamb and trumpet.
Mrs. Lorrimer. Oh, here you men are! If you think this is going to be allowed, you are very much mistaken! What do men think we ask them to parties for? Eh? Anyway, a cotillion is a leap-year dance; on such an occasion you are our natural prey! Come, sir! [Pretending to blow trumpet.
Douglas. No. [Smiling apologetically.] Postpone my pleasure till a little later in the evening, will you? Don't be angry with me; I want to have a few words with Mr. Wolton,—then I'll come and give all my favours to you!
Mrs. Lorrimer. That sounds attractive; I'll let you off. [Makes lamby squeak. Smiling, turns to Fletcher.] But I won't let you off.
Fletcher. [Smiling.] Don't, please! I'm very happy to be your consolation prize. [Takes lamb. Music.