Thor. If you please—two lumps. (she hands cup to him)
Car. Bread and butter? (they both take some) It isn't up to much—yesterday's loaf—but it was the best I could do. And how do you both feel? Nervous?
Lucy. Beastly nervous! (eating)
Thor. (eating) The moment is naturally a solemn one. I feel anxious, but not nervous. (takes up cup and drinks)
Lucy. Oh, it's all right for you; you've tied up such a lot of poor misguided people, that you know the words backwards. It's different with me—I know I shall bungle it.
Car. There are only three words that really signify.
Lucy. Which three?
Car. Love, honor, and obey.
Lucy. I think I can manage the first two, but I mean to slur the third, (Thorsby drops cup in saucer) cough, or sneeze or something.
Thor. (to Caroline, smiling) That sounds rather an alarming prospect. Don't you pity me?