Capt. G. Wouldn't it be rather impertinent of me to say that I'm sorry for you?
Mrs. H. I think you have said it once or twice before. You're growing very careful of my feelings. My God, Pip, I was a good woman once! You said I was. You've made me what I am. What are you going to do with me? What are you going to do with me? Won't you say that you are sorry? (Helps herself to iced asparagus.)
Capt. G. I am sorry for you, if you WANT the pity of such a brute as I am. I'm awf'ly sorry for you.
Mrs. H. Rather tame for a man of the world. Do you think that that admission clears you?
Capt. G. What can I do? I can only tell you what I think of myself. You can't think worse than that?
Mrs. H. Oh, yes, I can! And now, will you tell me the reason of all this? Remorse? Has Bayard been suddenly conscience-stricken?
Capt. G. (Angrily, his eyes still lowered.) No! The thing has come to an end on my side. That's all. Mafisch!
Mrs. H. “That's all. Mafisch!” As though I were a Cairene Dragoman. You used to make prettier speeches. D'you remember when you said?—
Capt. G. For Heaven's sake don't bring that back! Call me anything you like and I'll admit it—
Mrs. H. But you don't care to be reminded of old lies? If I could hope to hurt you one-tenth as much as you have hurt me tonight—No, I wouldn't—I couldn't do it—liar though you are.