SIR HARRY. I swaddled you in luxury.
KATE. [Making her great revelation.] That was it.
SIR HARRY. [Blankly.] What?
KATE. [Who can be serene because it is all over.] How you beamed at me when I sat at the head of your fat dinners in my fat jewelry, surrounded by our fat friends.
SIR HARRY. [Aggrieved.] They weren't so fat.
KATE. [A side issue.] All except those who were so thin. Have you ever noticed, Harry, that many jewels make women either incredibly fat or incredibly thin?
SIR HARRY. [Shouting.] I have not. [Is it worth while to argue with her any longer?] We had all the most interesting society of the day. It wasn't only business men. There were politicians, painters, writers——
KATE. Only the glorious, dazzling successes. Oh, the fat talk while we ate too much—about who had made a hit and who was slipping back, and what the noo house cost and the noo motor and the gold soup-plates, and who was to be the noo knight.
SIR HARRY. [Who it will be observed is unanswerable from first to last.] Was anybody getting on better than me, and consequently you?
KATE. Consequently me! Oh, Harry, you and your sublime religion.