Fouldes.
D'you think that would choke me off? D'you suppose I don't know that behind that very artificial complexion there's a dear little woman called Betsy who's genuine to the bottom of her soul?
Lady Frederick.
Oh, don't be so sentimental or I shall cry.
Fouldes.
Well, what is it to be?
Lady Frederick.
[Her voice breaking.] D'you like me still, Paradine, after all these years?
Fouldes.
Yes. [She looks at him, her lips quivering. He stretches out his arms, and she, breaking down, hides her face on his shoulder.] Now don't be an ass, Betsy.... I know you'll say in a minute I'm the only man you ever loved.