Cynthia. I think I see one.
Sir Wilfrid. Well, that's what they're saying over there. They say your gals run to talk [He plainly remembers Vida's volubility.] and I have seen gals here that would chat life into a wooden Indian! That's what you Americans call being clever.—All brains and no stuffin'! In fact, some of your American gals are the nicest boys I ever met.
Cynthia. So that's what you think?
Sir Wilfrid. Not a bit what I think—what my countrymen think!
Cynthia. Why are you telling me?
Sir Wilfrid. Oh, just explaining my character. I'm the sort that can pick and choose—and what I want is heart.
Cynthia. [Vida and John ever in mind.] No more heart than a dragon-fly! [The organ begins to play softly.
Sir Wilfrid. That's it, dragon-fly. Cold as stone and never stops buzzing about and showin' off her colours. It's that American dragon-fly girl that I'm afraid of, because, d'ye see, I don't know what an American expects when he marries; yes, but you're not listening!
Cynthia. I am listening. I am!
Sir Wilfrid. [Speaking directly to her.] An Englishman, ye see, when he marries expects three things: love, obedience, and five children.