Bea. Think so—by all means think so! I do not ask for pity or for sympathy. I only said so much in self-defence. Now I have done. (goes to L.)
Nor. (aside) Thank goodness!
Bea. But you are quite right to remain a bachelor. Marriage is a mistake. (sitting in easy chair L.)
Nor. (goes to L.C.) There are two ways of looking at it; and, after all, one ought to see both sides. I’ve looked at one for so long, I’m seriously thinking of taking a turn at the other. (sits on sofa)
Bea. You contemplate being married?
Nor. Well, I have had some thoughts of it. (toying with Beatrice’s fan which she has left on sofa)
Bea. Whom shall I have the pleasure of congratulating?
Nor. Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t asked her yet—at least, not properly. I’m sort of—feeling my way.
Bea. I don’t think you need fear.