Dor. Sorry you think that.
Lucy. Well, do something to please me.
Dor. Anything I can.
Lucy. Fetch me an orchid, (he looks surprised) to wear this evening—there are lots in the orchid house—will you?
Dor. 'Course I will.
Lucy. Thanks. (Dorvaston crosses up R. Lucy crosses L. C., and Dorvaston crosses down to her)
Dor. (places hands upon Lucy's shoulder and speaking over her shoulder) Little woman! Ever since the time when your dear old dad first gave us the word of command, I've always had a pretty clear notion where the word duty came in; so when once you've pulled yourself together, and named the day, I mean to pull myself together and do my level damnedest to make you happy. D'you see? (turns her round)
Lucy. (facing him) Yes, I see. (puts hand on his shoulder) I'm quite sure you mean all you say, and it's nice of you to say it, and to mean it. The only thing is, you seem to be entering upon a matrimonial campaign without any transports.
Dor. I don't follow.