_Avonia._
[_Shrilly._]She was always ladylike!
_Tom._
I'm aware of that!
_Avonia._
Well, then, what do you mean by--?
_Tom._
[_In a rage, turning away._] Oh----!
_Avonia._
[_Heating her irons again._] The idea!
_Tom._
[_Cooling down._] She was always a ladylike actress, on the stage and
off it, but now she has developed into a--[_at a loss_] into a----
_Avonia._
[_Scornfully._] Ha!
_Tom._
Into a ladylike human being. These fools at the "Wells"! Can't act,
can't she! No, she can no longer _spout_, she can no longer _ladle_, the
vapid trash, the--the--the turgid rodomontade----
_Avonia._
[_Doubtfully._] You'd better be careful of your language, Wrench.
_Tom._
[_With a twinkle in his eye--mopping his brow._] You're a married woman,
'Vonia----
_Avonia._
[_Holding her irons to her cheek, modestly._] I know, but still----
_Tom._
Yes, deep down in the well of that girl's nature there has been lying
a little, bright, clear pool of genuine refinement, girlish simplicity.
And now the bucket has been lowered by love; experience has turned the
handle; and up comes the crystal to the top, pure and sparkling. Why,
her broken engagement to poor young Gower has really been the making
of her! It has transformed her! Can't act, can't she! [__Drawing a long
breath.__] How she would play Dora in my comedy!
_Avonia._
Ho, that comedy!
_Tom._
How she would murmur those love-scenes!
_Avonia._
Murder----!
_Tom._
[_Testily._] Murmur. [_Partly to himself._] Do you know, 'Vonia, I had
Rose in my mind when I imagined Dora----?
_Avonia._
Ha, ha! you astonish me.
_Tom._
[_Sitting._] And Arthur Gower when I wrote the character of
Gerald, Dora's lover. [_In a low voice._] Gerald and Dora--Rose and
Arthur--Gerald and Dora. [_Suddenly._] 'Vonia----!
_Avonia._
[_Singeing her hair._] Ah--! oh, lor'! what now?
_Tom._