Culch. (to himself). It's a loop-hole—I'll try it. (Aloud.) You have divined my feeling exactly. In—er—obeying your commands, I have learned to know PODBURY better—to see in him a sterling nature, more worthy, in some respects, than my own. And I know how deeply he has centred all his hopes upon you, Miss PRENDERGAST. Knowing, seeing that as I—er—do, I feel that—whatever it costs me—I cannot run the risk of wrecking the—er—life's happiness of so good a fellow. So you must really allow me to renounce vows accepted under—er—an imperfect comprehension of the—er—facts! [Wipes his brow.
Miss P. This is quite too Quixotic. Reflect, Mr. CULCHARD. Is such a sacrifice demanded of you? I assure you I am perfectly neutral at present. I might prefer Mr. PODBURY. I really don't know. And—and I don't like losing one of my suitors like this!
Culch. Don't tempt me! I—I mustn't listen, I cannot. No, I renounce. Be kind to PODBURY—try to recognise the good in him ... he is so devoted to you—make him happy, if you can!
Miss P. (affected). I—I really can't tell you how touched I am, Mr. CULCHARD. I can guess what this renunciation must have cost you. It—it gives me a better opinion of human nature ... it does, indeed!
Culch. (loftily, as she rises to go in). Ah, Miss PRENDERGAST, don't lose your faith in human nature! Trust me, it is—er—full of surprises! (Alone.) Now am I an abominable humbug, or what? I swear I felt every word I said, at the time. Curious psychological state to be in. But I'm out of what might have been a very unpleasant mess at all events!
Miss T. (coming upon him from round a corner). Well, I'm sure, Mr. CULCHARD!
Culch. You are a young lady of naturally strong convictions, I am aware. But what are you so sure of at the present moment?
Miss T. Well, I guess I'm not just as sure of you as I should like to be, anyway. Seems to me, considering you've been so vurry inconsolable away from me, you'd a good deal to say to that young lady in the patent folders. And I'd like an explanation—you're right down splendid at explaining most things.
Culch. (with virtuous indignation). So you actually suspect me of having carried on a flirtation!
Miss T. I guess girls don't use their pocket-handkerchiefs that way over the weather. Who is she, anyway?