[He makes a second effort to catch her fingers.
Vida. Will you kindly go further away and be good!
Sir Wilfrid. [Quite forgetting Cynthia.] Look here, if you say yes, we'll be married—
Vida. In a month!
Sir Wilfrid. Oh, no—this evening!
Vida. [Incapable of leaving a situation unadorned.] This evening! And sail in the same boat with you? And shall we sail to the Garden of Eden and stroll into it and lock the gate on the inside and then lose the key—under a rose-bush?
Sir Wilfrid. [After a pause and some consideration.] Yes; yes, I say—that's too clever for me! [He draws nearer to her to bring the understanding to a crisis.
Vida. [Interrupted by a soft knock.] My maid—come!
Sir Wilfrid. [Swinging out of his chair and moving to the sofa.] Eh?
Benson. [Coming in and approaching Vida.] The new footman, ma'am—he's made a mistake. He's told the lady you're at home.