Bel. It seems that there’s some doubt whether this cottage, which is just on the border, is in England or Scotland. If it is in England, she has no case; if it is in Scotland, I’m afraid she has. I’ve written to the owner of the property to ascertain, and if, in the mean time, she claims you, you must absolutely decline to recognize this marriage for a moment.
Ch. Not for one moment!
Bel. It was a mere artifice to enable her to escape from McGillicuddy.
Ch. Nothing more!
Bel. It’s monstrous—perfectly monstrous—that that should constitute a marriage. It’s disgraceful—it’s abominable. Damme, Cheviot, it’s immoral.
Ch. So it is—it’s immoral. That settles it in my mind. It’s immoral.
Bel. You’re quite sure you’ll be resolute, Cheviot?
Ch. Resolute? I should think so! Why, hang it all, man, I’m going to be married in twenty minutes to Minnie Symperson!
Bel. What!
Ch. (confused at having let this out). Didn’t I tell you? I believe you’re right; I did not tell you. It escaped me. Oh, yes, this is my wedding-day.