lord caversham. Why don’t you propose to that pretty Miss Chiltern?
lord goring. I am of a very nervous disposition, especially in the morning.
lord caversham. I don’t suppose there is the smallest chance of her accepting you.
lord goring. I don’t know how the betting stands to-day.
lord caversham. If she did accept you she would be the prettiest fool in England.
lord goring. That is just what I should like to marry. A thoroughly sensible wife would reduce me to a condition of absolute idiocy in less than six months.
lord caversham. You don’t deserve her, sir.
lord goring. My dear father, if we men married the women we deserved, we should have a very bad time of it.
[Enter mabel chiltern.]
mabel chiltern. Oh! . . . How do you do, Lord Caversham? I hope Lady Caversham is quite well?