Mrs. M. (with a shrug). Oh, I dare say. A round, soulless face, a large waist—
Philip. You women have no eyes. She has cheeks (to quote Cherbuliez) like those fruits one longs to bite into, a pair of fine eyes, well-cut lips—(Breaks off and laughs).
Mrs. M. (severely). Pray go on.
Philip. Not while you regard me with that virtuous air of condemnation.
Mrs. M. I confess I saw nothing to admire in the girl except that she looked healthy and strong.
Miss Arnold. Nor did I. Moreover, she had the fault of being badly dressed.
Beverly. She was beautiful, then, not by reason of her dress, as most of your sex are, but in spite of it. You women always underrate physical beauty in each other.
Mrs. M. (pretending not to have heard Beverly's remark). Yes, Ethel, very badly dressed, and her hair was atrociously arranged.
Philip. Oh, we did not look at her hair, we were so much attracted by her face and figure.
Mrs. M. (piqued). Take my advice, Ethel, and never marry. While we were engaged Philip never thought of seeing beauty in any girl except myself: now he is in a state of enthusiasm bordering upon frenzy over every new face he comes across.