lord goring. My dear Mrs. Cheveley, you have always been far too clever to know anything about love.
mrs. cheveley. I did love you. And you loved me. You know you loved me; and love is a very wonderful thing. I suppose that when a man has once loved a woman, he will do anything for her, except continue to love her? [Puts her hand on his.]
lord goring. [Taking his hand away quietly.] Yes: except that.
mrs. cheveley. [After a pause.] I am tired of living abroad. I want to come back to London. I want to have a charming house here. I want to have a salon. If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish how to listen, society here would be quite civilised. Besides, I have arrived at the romantic stage. When I saw you last night at the Chilterns’, I knew you were the only person I had ever cared for, if I ever have cared for anybody, Arthur. And so, on the morning of the day you marry me, I will give you Robert Chiltern’s letter. That is my offer. I will give it to you now, if you promise to marry me.
lord goring. Now?
mrs. cheveley. [Smiling.] To-morrow.
lord goring. Are you really serious?
mrs. cheveley. Yes, quite serious.
lord goring. I should make you a very bad husband.
mrs. cheveley. I don’t mind bad husbands. I have had two. They amused me immensely.