MABEL. [Staring down at her] What do you mean—Court?
MARGARET. My dear, he'll have to bring an action for defamation of character, or whatever they call it.
MABEL. Were they talking of this last night at the WINSOR's?
MARGARET. Well, you know a dinner-table, Mabel—Scandal is heaven-sent at this time of year.
MABEL. It's terrible, such a thing—terrible!
MARGARET. [Gloomily] If only Ronny weren't known to be so broke.
MABEL. [With her hands to her forehead] I can't realise—I simply can't. If there's a case would it be all right afterwards?
MARGARET. Do you remember St Offert—cards? No, you wouldn't—you were in high frocks. Well, St Offert got damages, but he also got the hoof, underneath. He lives in Ireland. There isn't the slightest connection, so far as I can see, Mabel, between innocence and reputation. Look at me!
MABEL. We'll fight it tooth and nail!
MARGARET. Mabel, you're pure wool, right through; everybody's sorry for you.