Marquis (turning again to his letters). "Indifferent" (with two f's) "to my plea...." (He leans back and looks at the paper with his head on one side as though he were examining a picture.) It looks all right, Duchess. I always go by that, though I think it is easier to tell whether a bit of spelling is right if you can see it in print.
Duchess (gravely). I thoroughly agree with you, Marquis de la Mise-en-Scène. (A pause during which the scratching of the quill continues.) I do not think she will mind about the spelling; but if I know anything of her sex she will not read the end of the letter if you make it too long.
Marquis (still writing away busily). Yes, she will, for it is full of business.
Duchess (with some interest in her voice). Why? What kind of business?
Marquis. I'm writing a proposal of marriage, Madam.
Duchess (really startled). Good heavens, Monsieur de la Mise-en-Scène! I always thought you were married!
Marquis (continuing to write). Madame de la Tour-de-Force, that is the malicious sort of thing people say at Versailles about provincials. (He continues to write.)
Duchess. I don't care how much business you put into it; if you make it as long as that she won't read to the end.
Marquis. Oh, yes, she will. The letter isn't very long, but I'm writing it out several times.
Duchess. Really! Your cynicism! And suppose the various ladies meet, or suppose two of them accept you at once! What then?