[With an ecstatic sigh, she drops into an armchair. Then she takes out a dainty cigarette-case, pulls off her right-hand glove, exhibiting her rings, and chooses a cigarette. The Baron, seeing this, produces his match-box.]
QUINCY
And now, dear Baron Revendal, having brought you safely to the den of the lioness—if I may venture to call your daughter so—I must leave you to do the taming, eh?
BARON
You are always of the most amiable.
[He strikes a match.]
BARONESS
Tout à fait charmant.
[The Baron lights her cigarette.]
QUINCY [Bows gallantly]