Philip. I assure you—
Vida. [Unable to resist a thrust.] Of course, you would like to have rendered it against me. It was your wonderful sense of justice, and that's why I'm so grateful—if not to you, to your Maker!
Philip. [Feels that this is no place for his future wife. Rises quickly. To Cynthia.] Cynthia, I would prefer that you left us.
[Matthew moves to the sofa and sits down.
Cynthia. [Determined not to leave the field first, remains seated.] Certainly, Philip!
Philip. I expect another visitor who—
Vida. [With flattering insistence, to Cynthia.] Oh, my dear—don't go! The truth is—I came to see you! I feel most cordially towards you—and really, you know, people in our position should meet on cordial terms.
Cynthia. [Taking it with apparent calm, but pointing her remarks.] Naturally. If people in our position couldn't meet, New York society would soon come to an end. [Thomas comes in.
Vida. [Calm, but getting her knife in too.] Precisely. Society's no bigger than a band-box. Why, it's only a moment ago I saw Mr. Karslake walking—
Cynthia. Ah!