Sir Wilfrid. Hate to see a pretty woman married. Might marry her myself.
Cynthia. Oh, but I'm sure you don't admire American women.
Sir Wilfrid. Admire you, Mrs. Karslake—
Cynthia. Not enough to marry me, I hope.
Sir Wilfrid. Marry you in a minute! Say the word. Marry you now—here.
Cynthia. You don't think you ought to know me a little before—
Sir Wilfrid. Know you? Do know you.
Cynthia. [Covering her hair with her handkerchief.] What colour is my hair?
Sir Wilfrid. Pshaw!
Cynthia. You see! You don't know whether I'm a chestnut or a strawberry roan! In the States we think a few months of friendship is quite necessary.