Duke. [Expansively waving his hands about.] The artist temperament! What I always call the artistic temperament! Wordsworth, you know, and all that.
[Silence.
Morris. [Staring.] All what?
Duke. [Continuing to lecture with enthusiasm.] Why, everything's temperament, you know! It's her temperament to see the fairies. It's my temperament not to see the fairies. Why, I've walked all round the grounds twenty times and never saw a fairy. Well, it's like that about this wizard or whatever she calls it. For her there is somebody there. For us there would not be somebody there. Don't you see?
Morris. [Advancing excitedly.] Somebody there! What do you mean?
Duke. [Airily.] Well, you can't quite call it a man.
Morris. [Violently.] A man!
Duke. Well, as old Buffle used to say, what is a man?
Morris. [With a strong rise of the American accent.] With your permission, Duke, I eliminate old Buffle. Do you mean that anybody has had the tarnation coolness to suggest that some man....
Duke. Oh, not a man, you know. A magician, something mythical, you know.