ALBERT. It makes very little difference to me whether I please you or not. I speak according to my temperament. Perhaps it is a bit authoritative, but I can't help that.
HENRIETTE. You are superb.
ALBERT. Oh, no. I'm just myself.
HENRIETTE. Oh, if you were only the——
ALBERT. I haven't the slightest idea what you were about to say, but I'll guarantee that there's not a more inflexible temper than mine in Paris.
HENRIETTE. I can easily believe it. [Pause.] Now tell me in what way you think I'm coquettish.
[Sitting on edge of sofa in an interested attitude. Albert takes out cigarette, lights and smokes it.
ALBERT. That's easy; for instance, when you go to the theatre, to a reception, to the races. As soon as you arrive the men flock about in dozens; those who don't know you come to be introduced. You're the talking-stock of society. Now I should be greatly obliged if you would tell me to what you attribute this notoriety?
HENRIETTE. [Modestly.] Well, I should attribute it to the fact that I am—agreeable, and pleasant——
ALBERT. There are many women no less so.