Mrs. Erlynne. Why do you say that?
Lord Windermere. You made me get you an invitation to my wife’s ball.
Mrs. Erlynne. For my daughter’s ball—yes.
Lord Windermere. You came, and within an hour of your leaving the house you are found in a man’s rooms—you are disgraced before every one. [Goes up stage C.]
Mrs. Erlynne. Yes.
Lord Windermere. [Turning round on her.] Therefore I have a right to look upon you as what you are—a worthless, vicious woman. I have the right to tell you never to enter this house, never to attempt to come near my wife—
Mrs. Erlynne. [Coldly.] My daughter, you mean.
Lord Windermere. You have no right to claim her as your daughter. You left her, abandoned her when she was but a child in the cradle, abandoned her for your lover, who abandoned you in turn.
Mrs. Erlynne. [Rising.] Do you count that to his credit, Lord Windermere—or to mine?
Lord Windermere. To his, now that I know you.