"Because if it was known it would spoil all my fun. I have noticed that men avoid a fiancée as they would a—a rattlesnake."
"I cannot see why being engaged should spoil your fun."
"But it would for all that. Come now, Ted, be candid: how often were you in love before you met me?"
"Never." With the vehemence of a thousand oaths.
"Well, then, to put it differently, how many girls did you like?"
"Like?" Reluctantly. "Oh, as for that, I suppose I did fancy I liked a few girls."
"Just so; and I should like to like a few men," says Miss Massereene, triumphantly.
"You don't know what you are talking about," says Tedcastle, hotly.
"Indeed I do. That is just one of the great points which the defenders of women's rights forget to expatiate upon. A man may love as often as he chooses, while a woman must only love once, or he considers himself very badly used. Why not be on an equal footing? Not that I want to love any one," says Molly; "only it is the injustice of the thing I abhor."
"Love any one you choose," says Tedcastle, passionately, springing to his feet, "Shadwell or any other fellow that comes in your way, I shan't interfere. It is hardly necessary for you to say you don't 'want to love one.' Your heart is as cold as ice. It is high time this engagement—this farce—should come to an end."