SIR GEOFFREY. Exactly; you'll forward my goods and chattels. And old Jack
will ascribe it all to my wayward mood; he'll think I have found it too
dull down here. I'm immensely obliged.
LADY TORMINSTER. [_With a smile._] Remark that I've not offered to be a
sister to you.
SIR GEOFFREY. You've been superb. Oh, the good talk we've had! Do you
know, I could almost wish old Jack to have heard what I said. I'm so fond
of him, that grand old fellow, that I've been on the point of telling him,
myself, more than once. For you know he _will_ have me take you about, and
it's painful. Besides, I've felt it almost disloyal to--keep this thing
from him. You understand, don't you?
LADY TORMINSTER. Yes.
SIR GEOFFREY. He and I almost are one, you see. It's not British to show
any feeling, but really I--love him. And the devil comes along, and, of
all women in the world, singles out Jack's wife, and fills my heart with
her. That's the devil's sense of humour.
LADY TORMINSTER. Perhaps he has read Bernard Shaw. But you must never let
Jack know--never.
SIR GEOFFREY. I suppose not. He's so direct, so single-minded, that the
shock would be terrible. But I'm not to blame. How could I help it? Oh,
all that cackle about being master of one's fate!