SHE. Yes, of course! (_Indignantly_) Do you suppose I would be
married to a man that's fat and bald and forty years old?
HE. (_distressed_) I--I beg your pardon. I did think so.
SHE. Just because you saw me with him? How ridiculous!
HE. It was a silly mistake. But--the things you said! You spoke so--
realistically--about marriage.
SHE. It was your marriage I was speaking about. (_With hasty
compunction_) Oh, I beg your--
HE. My marriage! (_He rises_.) Good heavens! And to whom, pray,
did you think I was married? (_A light dawning_) To Maria? Why,
Maria is my aunt!
SHE. Yes--of course. How stupid of me.
HE. Let's get this straight. Are you married to _anybody_?
SHE. Certainly not. As if I would let myself be made love to, if I were
a married woman!
HE. Now don't put on airs. You did something quite as improper. You
made love to a married man.
SHE. I didn't.
HE. It's the same thing. You thought I was married.
SHE. But you aren't.
HE. No. I'm not married. And--and--_you're_ not married. (_The
logic of the situation striking him all of a sudden_) In fact--!
_He pauses, rather alarmed_.
SHE. Yes?
HE. In fact--well--there's no reason in the world why we _shouldn't_
make love to each other!
SHE. (_equally startled_) Why--that's so!
HE. Then--then--shall we?
SHE. (_sitting down and looking demurely at her toes_) Oh, not if
you don't want to!
HE. (_adjusting himself to the situation_) Well--under the
circumstances--I suppose I ought to begin by asking you to marry me. .
SHE. (_languidly, with a provoking glance_) You don't seem very
anxious to.