Amy O'Connell. Did she mind much?
Trebell. We both minded. But I had ideals of womanhood that I wouldn't sacrifice to any human being. Then I fell in with a woman who seduced me, and for a whole year led me the life of a French novel ... played about with my emotion as I had tortured that other poor girl's brains. Education you'd call it in the one case as I called it in the other. What a waste of time!
Amy O'Connell. And what has become of your ideal?
Trebell. [Relapsing to his former mood.] It's no longer a personal matter.
Amy O'Connell. [With coquetry.] You're not interested in my character?
Trebell. Oh, yes, I am ... up to kissing point.
She does not shrink, but speaks with just a shade of contempt.
Amy O'Connell. You get that far more easily than a woman. That's one of my grudges against men. Why can't women take love-affairs so lightly?
Trebell. There are reasons. But make a good beginning with this one. Kiss me at once.
He leans towards her. She considers him quite calmly.