Dickie.
[Thoroughly startled.] I don’t know what you’re talking about.
Penelope.
I have tried not to see anything, but you do make it so difficult.
Dickie.
[Making up his mind to be very haughty.] Will you have the goodness to explain yourself?
Penelope.
My dear, of course I know all about it.
Dickie.
I entirely fail to gather your meaning. What do you know all about?