during dinner
and after dinner.

TRANTO. The general constraint?

HILDEGARDE. The general constraint.

TRANTO. The awkwardness? HILDEGARDE. The awkwardness.

TRANTO. The frightful silences and the forced conversations?

HILDEGARDE (_nods_). Why _did_ you come?

TRANTO. Well--

HILDEGARDE. I suppose you're still confined to this house.

TRANTO (_in a new confidential tone_). I wish you'd treat me as your
father does.

HILDEGARDE. But of course I will--

TRANTO. That's fine. He treats me as an intimate friend.

HILDEGARDE. But you must treat me as you treat papa.

TRANTO (_slightly dashed_). I'll try. I might tell you that I had two
very straight talks with your father last night.

HILDEGARDE. Two?

TRANTO. Yes; one before dinner, and the other just before I left--when
you'd gone to bed. He began them--both of them.

HILDEGARDE. Oh! So that you may be said to know the whole situation.

TRANTO. Yes. Up to last thing last night, that is.

HILDEGARDE. Since then it's developed on normal lines. What do you think
of it?

TRANTO. I adore your mother, but I think your father's quite right.

HILDEGARDE. Well, naturally! I take that for granted. I was expecting
something rather more original.

TRANTO. You shall have it. I think that you and I are very largely
responsible for the situation. I think our joint responsibility binds us
inextricably together.

HILDEGARDE. Mr. Tranto!

TRANTO. Certainly. There's no doubt in my mind that your father was
enormously influenced by Sampson Straight's article on the Honours
scandal. In fact he told me so. And seeing that you wrote it and I
published it--

HILDEGARDE (_alarmed_). You didn't tell him I'm Sampson Straight?
TRANTO. Can you imagine me doing such a thing?

HILDEGARDE. I hope not. Shall I tell you what _I_ think of the
situation?

TRANTO. I wish you would.

HILDEGARDE. I think such situations would never arise if parents weren't
so painfully unromantic. I'm not speaking particularly of papa and
mamma. I mean all parents. But take mamma. She's absolutely
matter-of-fact. And papa's nearly as bad. Of course I know they're
always calling each other by pet names; but that's mere camouflage for
their matter-of-factness. Whereas if they both had in them a little of
the real romance of life--everything would be different. At the same
time I needn't say that in this affair that we're now in the middle
of--there's no question of ratiocination.

TRANTO. Of