Michael.
Clare Lesley.
Lady Patricia.
Clare—Lesley!... I don’t believe it—it’s impossible. I don’t believe it!... (Michael is silent.) Do you mean to tell me that you don’t adore me?
Michael.
I’m—I’m very fond of you.
Lady Patricia.
Fond of me? Then all your passion has been a sham, and you’ve been making love to that—that—oh, what is the horrible word?...
Michael.
(Deferentially.) Er—impossible ...?