Sir Wilfrid. Hear! Hear! Oh, I beg your pardon!
John. And why shouldn't we both be here? American marriage is a new thing. We've got to strike the pace, and the only trouble is, Judge, that the judiciary have so messed the thing up that a man can't be sure he is married until he's divorced. It's a sort of marry-go-round, to be sure! But let it go at that! Here we all are, and we're ready to marry my wife to you, and start her on her way to him!
Philip. [Brought to a standstill.] Good Lord! Sir, you cannot trifle with monogamy!
John. Now, now, Judge, monogamy is just as extinct as knee-breeches. The new woman has a new idea, and the new idea is—well, it's just the opposite of the old Mormon one. Their idea is one man, ten wives and a hundred children. Our idea is one woman, a hundred husbands and one child.
Philip. Sir, this is polyandry.
John. Polyandry? A hundred to one it's polyandry; and that's it, Judge! Uncle Sam has established consecutive polyandry,—but there's got to be an interval between husbands! The fact is, Judge, the modern American marriage is like a wire fence. The woman's the wire—the posts are the husbands. [He indicates himself, and then Sir Wilfrid and Philip.] One—two—three! And if you cast your eye over the future you can count them, post after post, up hill, down dale, all the way to Dakota!
Philip. All very amusing, sir, but the fact remains—
John. [Going to Philip who at once moves away.] Now, now, Judge, I like you. But you're asleep; you're living in the dark ages. You want to call up Central. "Hello, Central! Give me the present time, 1906, New York!"
Sir Wilfrid. Of course you do, and—there you are!
Philip. [Heavily.] There I am not, sir! And— [To John.] as for Mr. Karslake's ill-timed jocosity,—sir, in the future—