Loveday.
I’m not—so—sure!
Gordon.
(Eagerly.) Are you not sure that my love is spurned? Do you think Nora, after all, may love me?
Loveday.
That’s—that’s not quite what I meant. But—when—when once Nora sees how the great world honours you for these ideas (taps papers on his knee) she will love you, she must. All women will love you and bless you—for you will be the saviour of their sons!
Gordon.
But Nora is so living—so—feminine. I don’t think dreamy things like ideas appeal to her. Oh, how well I remember her as a girl with her golden hair flying! We three were brought up together, she and Robert and I. She never cared about reading, but always played some real game.
Loveday.
As she gets older she will see that ideas are real. Perhaps, and then—