Lady Windermere. How weak bad men are!
Lord Windermere. Margaret, none of us men may be good enough for the women we marry—that is quite true—but you don’t imagine I would ever—oh, the suggestion is monstrous!
Lady Windermere. Why should you be different from other men? I am told that there is hardly a husband in London who does not waste his life over some shameful passion.
Lord Windermere. I am not one of them.
Lady Windermere. I am not sure of that!
Lord Windermere. You are sure in your heart. But don’t make chasm after chasm between us. God knows the last few minutes have thrust us wide enough apart. Sit down and write the card.
Lady Windermere. Nothing in the whole world would induce me.
Lord Windermere. [Crossing to bureau.] Then I will! [Rings electric bell, sits and writes card.]
Lady Windermere. You are going to invite this woman? [Crossing to him.]
Lord Windermere. Yes. [Pause. Enter Parker.] Parker!