STEVE, judiciously, ‘A woman’s secret, Colonel.’
COLONEL. ‘Ah, the plot thickens. Do I know her?’
STEVE. ‘Not you.’
COLONEL. ‘I mustn’t ask her name?’
STEVE, with presence of mind, ‘I have a very good reason for not telling you her name.’
COLONEL. ‘So? And she is not exactly young? Twice your age, Steve?’
STEVE, with excusable heat, ‘Not at all. But she is of the age when a woman knows her own mind—which makes the whole affair extraordinarily flattering.’ With undoubtedly a shudder of disgust Amy closes the cupboard door. Steve continues to behave in the most gallant manner. ‘You must not quiz me, Colonel, for her circumstances are such that her partiality for me puts her in a dangerous position, and I would go to the stake rather than give her away.’
COLONEL. ‘Quite so.’ He makes obeisance to the beauty of the sentiment, and then proceeds to an examination of the hearthrug.
STEVE. ‘What are you doing?’
COLONEL. ‘Trying to find out for myself whether she comes here.’