“I used to think archery was a great bore,” Grandcourt began. He spoke with a fine accent, but with a certain broken drawl, as of a distinguished personage with a distinguished cold on his chest.
“Are you converted to-day?” said Gwendolen.
(Pause, during which she imagined various degrees and modes of opinion about herself that might be entertained by Grandcourt.)
“Yes, since I saw you shooting. In things of this sort one generally sees people missing and simpering.”
“I suppose you are a first-rate shot with a rifle.”
(Pause, during which Gwendolen, having taken a rapid observation of Grandcourt, made a brief graphic description of him to an indefinite hearer.)
“I have left off shooting.”
“Oh, then, you are a formidable person. People who have done things once and left them off make one feel very contemptible, as if one were using cast-off fashions. I hope you have not left off all follies, because I practice a great many.”
(Pause, during which Gwendolen made several interpretations of her own speech.)
“What do you call follies?”