Vida. [With tenderness.] Never!
John. [His mind on Cynthia.] But I believe it's all in the way a girl's brought up. Our girls are brought up to be ignorant of life—they're ignorant of life. Life is a joke, and marriage is a picnic, and a man is a shawl-strap— 'Pon my soul, Cynthia Deane—no, I can't tell you! [In great irritation, he rises abruptly, and strides up and down the room.
Vida. [Gently.] Please tell me!
John. Well, she was an heiress, an American heiress—and she'd been taught to think marriage meant burnt almonds and moonshine and a yacht and three automobiles, and she thought—I don't know what she thought, but I tell you, Mrs. Phillimore, marriage is three parts love and seven parts forgiveness of sins. [He continues restlessly to pace the floor as he speaks of Cynthia.
Vida. [Flattering him as a matter of second nature.] She never loved you.
John. [On whom she has made no impression at all.] Yes, she did. For six or seven months there was not a shadow between us. It was perfect, and then one day she went off like a pistol-shot! I had a piece of law work and couldn't take her to see Flashlight race the Maryland mare. The case meant a big fee, big Kudos, and in sails Cynthia, Flashlight-mad! And will I put on my hat and take her? No—and bang she goes off like a stick o' dynamite—what did I marry her for?—and words—pretty high words, until she got mad, when she threw over a chair, and said, oh, well,—marriage was a failure, or it was with me, so I said she'd better try somebody else. She said she would, and marched out of the room.
Vida. [Gently sarcastic.] But she came back!
John. She came back, but not as you mean. She stood at the door and said, "Jack, I shall divorce you." Then she came over to my study-table, dropped her wedding ring on my law papers, and went out. The door shut, I laughed; the front door slammed, I damned. [After a silence, moving abruptly to the window.] She never came back. [He turns away and then, recovering, moves toward Vida, who catches his hands.
Vida. [Hoping for a contradiction.] She's broken your heart.
John. [Taking a chair by the lounge.] Oh, no!