Vida. [Provokingly.] Cynthia!
Sir Wilfrid. [Perfectly single-minded and entirely taken in.] But I would have come even if I'd known—
Vida. [Evading him, while he follows.] I don't believe it!
Sir Wilfrid. [Protesting whole-heartedly.] Give you my word I—
Vida. [Leading him on.] You're here to see her! And of course—
Sir Wilfrid. [Determined to be heard because, after all, he's a man.] May I have the—eh—the floor? [Vida sits down in a chair.] I was jolly well bowled over with Mrs. Karslake, I admit that, and I hoped to see her here, but—
Vida. [Talking nonsense and knowing it.] You had another object in coming. In fact, you came to see Cynthia, and you came to see me! What I really long to know is, why you wanted to see me! For, of course, Cynthia's to be married at three! And, if she wasn't she wouldn't have you!
Sir Wilfrid. [Not intending to wound; merely speaking the flat truth.] Well, I mean to jolly well ask her.
Vida. [Indignant.] To be your wife?
Sir Wilfrid. Why not?