FANNY. That’s kind of you.
VERNON. Oh, I’m not thinking of you. I’m thinking of myself. I want you. I fell in love with you because you were pretty and charming. There’s something else a man wants in his wife besides that. I’ve found it. [He jumps up, goes over to her, brushing aside things in his way.] I’m not claiming it as a right; you can go if you like. You can earn your own living, I know. But you shan’t have anybody else. You’ll be Lady Bantock and nobody else—as long as I live. [He has grown quite savage.]
FANNY [she bites her lip to keep back the smile that wants to come]. That cuts both ways, you know.
VERNON. I don’t want anybody else.
FANNY [she stretches out her hand and lays it on his]. Won’t it be too hard for you? You’ll have to tell them all—your friends—everybody.
VERNON. They’ve got to be told in any case. If you are here, for them to see, they’ll be able to understand—those that have got any sense.
Bennet comes in with breakfast, for two, on a tray. He places it on a table.
FANNY [she has risen, she goes over to him]. Good morning, uncle. [She puts up her face. He stares, but she persists. Bennet kisses her.] Lord Bantock—[she looks at Vernon]—has a request to make to you. He wishes me to remain here as his wife. I am willing to do so, provided you give your consent.
VERNON. Quite right, Bennet. I ought to have asked for it before. I apologise. Will you give your consent to my marriage with your niece?
FANNY. One minute. You understand what it means? From the moment you give it—if you do give it—I shall be Lady Bantock, your mistress.