MRS. CHEVELEY. [With a mock curtsey] Good evening, Lord Goring!
LORD GORING. Mrs. Cheveley! Great heavens! . . . May I ask what you were doing in my drawing-room?
MRS. CHEVELEY. Merely listening. I have a perfect passion for listening through keyholes. One always hears such wonderful things through them.
LORD GORING. Doesn't that sound rather like tempting Providence?
MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh! surely Providence can resist temptation by this time.
[Makes a sign to him to take her cloak off, which he does.]
LORD GORING. I am glad you have called. I am going to give you some good advice.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Oh! pray don't. One should never give a woman anything that she can't wear in the evening.
LORD GORING. I see you are quite as wilful as you used to be.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Far more! I have greatly improved. I have had more experience.
LORD GORING. Too much experience is a dangerous thing. Pray have a cigarette. Half the pretty women in London smoke cigarettes. Personally I prefer the other half.
MRS. CHEVELEY. Thanks. I never smoke. My dressmaker wouldn't like it, and a woman's first duty in life is to her dressmaker, isn't it? What the second duty is, no one has as yet discovered.
LORD GORING. You have come here to sell me Robert Chiltern's letter, haven't you?
MRS. CHEVELEY. To offer it to you on conditions. How did you guess that?
LORD GORING. Because you haven't mentioned the subject. Have you got it with you?
MRS. CHEVELEY. [Sitting down.] Oh, no! A well-made dress has no pockets.
LORD GORING. What is your price for it?
MRS. CHEVELEY. How absurdly English you are! The English think that a cheque-book can solve every problem in life. Why, my dear Arthur, I have very much more money than you have, and quite as much as Robert Chiltern has got hold of. Money is not what I want.
LORD GORING. What do you want then, Mrs. Cheveley?
MRS. CHEVELEY. Why don't you call me Laura?
LORD GORING. I don't like the name.
MRS. CHEVELEY. You used to adore it.
LORD GORING. Yes: that's why. [MRS. CHEVELEY motions to him to sit down beside her. He smiles, and does so.]
MRS. CHEVELEY. Arthur, you loved me once.
LORD GORING. Yes.
MRS. CHEVELEY. And you asked me to be your wife.
LORD GORING. That was the natural result of my loving you.
MRS. CHEVELEY. And you threw me over because you saw, or said you saw, poor old Lord Mortlake trying to have a violent flirtation with me in the conservatory at Tenby.
LORD GORING. I am under the impression that my lawyer settled that matter with you on certain terms . . . dictated by yourself.