Mr. B. (consolingly). Only into the garden, for coffee. I observe you are interested in Art. We will—ar—resume this conversation later.
[Rises; Miss Prendergast rises too, and goes towards the garden.
Culch. (as he follows, hastily). I must get this business over—if I can. But I wish I knew exactly how much to tell her. It's really very awkward—between the two of them. I'm afraid I've been a little too precipitate.
IN THE GARDEN; A FEW MINUTES LATER.
Miss Prend. (who has retired to fetch her glasses—with gracious playfulness). Well, Mr. Culchard, and how has my knight performed his lady's behests?
Culch. May I ask which knight you refer to?
Miss P. (slightly changing countenance). Which! Then—you know there is another? Surely there is nothing in that circumstance to—to offend—or hurt you?
Culch. Offended? (Considers whether this would be a good line to take.) Hardly that. Hurt? Well, I confess to being pained—very much pained, to discover that I was unconsciously pitted—against Podbury!
Miss P. But why? I have expressed no preference as yet. You can scarcely have become so attached to him that you dread the result of a successful rivalry!
Culch. (to himself). It's a loop-hole—I'll try it. (Aloud.) You have divined my feeling exactly. In—er—obeying your commands, I have learned to know Podbury better—to see in him a sterling nature, more worthy, in some respects, than my own. And I know how deeply he has centred all his hopes upon you, Miss Prendergast. Knowing, seeing that as I—er—do, I feel that—whatever it costs me—I cannot run the risk of wrecking the—er—life's happiness of so good a fellow. So you must really allow me to renounce vows accepted under—er—an imperfect comprehension of the—er—facts! [Wipes his brow.