COMTESSE. Oh, it is quite my conception of your character. Do you know, I am rather sorry for this Mr. John Shand.
SYBIL [opening her fine eyes]. Why? He is quite a boor, is he not?
COMTESSE. For that very reason. Because his great hour is already nearly sped. That wild bull manner that moves the multitude—they will laugh at it in your House of Commons.
SYBIL [indifferent]. I suppose so.
COMTESSE. Yet if he had education—-
SYBIL. Have we not been hearing how superbly he is educated?
COMTESSE. It is such as you or me that he needs to educate him now. You could do it almost too well.
SYBIL [with that pretty stretch of neck]. I am not sufficiently interested. I retire in your favour. How would you begin?
COMTESSE. By asking him to drop in, about five, of course. By the way, I wonder is there a Mrs. Shand?
SYBIL. I have no idea. But they marry young.