"M-m! You've been reading some reliable literature, wherein the pure-hearted Gladiola Trevelyan, who is only on this degrading beat in order to supply calves' foot jelly for little cripple sister Winnie at home, finds the young earl's card in her dressing-room. In real life you'll discover it is the son of the local butcher who leaves his in a Rolls Royce and that the marquises' cheques are to be mistrusted more often than honoured."
"Truly enough, gold paint can disguise a lead coronet. We've one in our family—my second cousin's. Anyone is welcome to him for me. Money I must have, Twinkle, or I may as well commit suicide."
"You are doing that by inches while you waste time emptying old pocket-books."
"My little weakness," admitted Muriel frankly. "I take what comes while keeping my eyes on the final goal."
"What the devil is your goal? One man or several?"
"You are an honest woman," laughed Muriel. "I don't mind confessing for your private ear, that I simply do not know." She flung herself face downwards on the tumbled satin quilt, cupping her face in her pink palms.
"To look it in the face: I have seen marriage at close quarters and found it distinctly uninspiring. Father and Mother! My God! How they bore one another! They try to go their separate ways and yet cling to a snarling respectability."
"Why don't they get a divorce?"
"Too expensive. Besides, there is no just cause or impediment. I could forgive them if either had risen to a guilty passion. But that would have smirched the family escutcheon, you see; merely being rude to one another doesn't. Then they have not got me off their hands yet. Dad would sell me to the highest bidder to-morrow. I am marketable stock for some degenerate duke with no age-limit, provided he is rich. Not so easy to find, eh? As for a love-match with an impecunious captain, whose inspiriting moustache bristles to touch one's holy hand before the ring adorns it and, a year later, remains quiescent against one's immovable lip-salve—well, I ask you! Every Sweet Young Thing thinks her matrimonial drama will be acted to muted violins in 'Just a little love, a little kiss,' and is perfectly prepared to 'Give him all her life for this.' Now, I'm not."
"The alternative is a profession. Mannequin?"