Eileen! I beg of you!
Lady Patricia.
On the surface my marriage has been perfect. Michael is the husband of old romance, steel-true, chivalrous, and devoted—oh! as no man was ever devoted to a woman before! (Mrs. O’Farrel and the Dean exchange significant glances.) But he just lacked what the depths of my complex nature cried out for—passion, simplicity, primeval energy. These he hadn’t in him to give, and I wanted them, not knowing at first what I wanted.... But when Bill came into my life—I knew—I knew ... and we rushed together, drawn by the mystic gravitation of alien soul for soul.
Mrs. O’Farrel.
A moment, Patricia. I understand that my son has “primeval energy.” I’ve never noticed it myself. What are its manifestations?
Dean.
Don’t you think we can leave that to—er—the imagination?
Mrs. O’Farrel.
Oh ... by all means! Then what do you mean by “rushing together”?
Lady Patricia.