Peter (leaning forward). Is she a mystery to you? I thought you knew.
Glad. Knew what?
Peter. You see that inspiration every morning in your looking-glass.
Glad, (rising). Mr. Garside!
Peter. I thought you understood. (He rises.)
Glad. I understand you're being impertinent.
Peter (confidently). That's because you're thinking of my past. Peter Garside, the Board School boy, the working engineer with a home in a back street—a great gulf yawned between that Garside of the past and the daughter of Sir Jasper Mottram, four times Mayor of Midlandton. The gulf is narrower to-day. In a year or two it won't exist. I'm not impertinent, Miss Mottram. I'm being bold enough to look into the future... the future you've inspired.
Glad. I ought to scold you, Mr. Garside.
Peter. Why?
Glad, (lightly). You appropriated me as your inspiration without leave.