Mrs. Denham.
Oh, Mr. Vane, what have you made him do?
Vane.
My dear Mrs. Denham, I have saved your husband's reputation for a few months at least. He cannot do anything so consummately bad in less. Pray, pray, do not try to understand art! Women never can; they have not yet developed the sixth sense—the sense of Beauty. But I must really tear myself away.
(Mrs. Denham sits gloomily on throne, ignoring Vane.)
Denham.
Won't you stay and have some tea?
Vane.
Thanks, no. Lady Mayfair made me promise to go and hear her new tenor. One knows what one has to expect, but one goes.
(Enter Jane, showing in Miss Macfarlane.)