Jean. Did you want to?
Stonor (an instant's angry scrutiny and then turning away his eyes). I thought I did—then. It's a long time ago.
Jean. And why "couldn't" you?
Stonor (a movement of strong irritation cut short). Why are you catechising me? It's a matter that concerns another woman.
Jean. If you're saying that it doesn't concern me, you're saying—(her lip trembles)—that you don't concern me.
Stonor (commanding his temper with difficulty). In those days I—I was absolutely dependent on my father.
Jean. Why, you must have been thirty, Geoffrey.
Stonor (slight pause). What? Oh—thereabouts.
Jean. And everybody says you're so clever.
Stonor. Well, everybody's mistaken.