GUENEVERE. And what about his work? Suppose it's true—
VIVIEN. Suppose it is. Then his work will have to get along the best way it can. (She turns at the door.) Do I look like a loser?—or a winner!
GUENEVERE. I'll bet on you, Vivien.
VIVIEN. Thanks, darling. And bye-bye.
GUENEVERE. (stopping her) But Vivien—! I've been racking my brain to think who—? Do tell me!
VIVIEN. (in the doorway, defiantly) Well, if you must know—it's
Lancelot Jones.
GUENEVERE. (springing up, amazed, incredulous and horrified) Oh, no, Vivien! Not Lancelot!
VIVIEN. Absolutely yes.
GUENEVERE. But—but he's married already!
VIVIEN. Oh, is that what's bothering you?