with intention and determined to stab_ CYNTHIA, _kisses_
VIDA'S _hand._

SIR WILFRID. Eh! Oh! I'm damned! [_To_ CYNTHIA.] What do you think
that means?

CYNTHIA. I don't doubt it means a wedding here, at once--after mine!
[VIDA _and_ JOHN _leave the drawing-room and walk slowly toward
them._

VIDA. [_Affecting an impossible intimacy to wound_ CYNTHIA _and
tantalize_ SIR WILFRID.] Hush, Jack--I'd much rather no one should
know anything about it until it's all over!

CYNTHIA. [_Starting and looking at_ SIR WILFRID.] What did I tell you?

VIDA. [_To_ CYNTHIA.] Oh, my dear, he's asked me to champagne and
lobster at _your_ house--his house! Matthew is coming! [CYNTHIA
_starts, but controls herself._] And you're to come, Sir Wilfrid.
[_Intending to convey the idea of a sudden marriage ceremony._] Of
course, my dear, I would like to wait for your wedding, but something
rather--rather important to me is to take place, and I know you'll
excuse me. [_The organ stops._

SIR WILFRID. [_Piqued at being forgotten._] All very neat, but you
haven't given me a chance, even.

VIDA. Chance? You're not serious?

SIR WILFRID. I am!

VIDA. [_Striking while the iron is hot._] I'll give you a minute to
offer yourself.

SIR WILFRID. Eh?

VIDA. Sixty seconds from now.

SIR WILFRID. [_Uncertain._] There's such a thing as bein' silly.

VIDA. [_Calm and determined._] Fifty seconds left.

SIR WILFRID. I take you--count fair. [_He hands her his watch and goes
to where_ CYNTHIA _stands._] I say, Mrs. Karslake--

CYNTHIA. [_Overwhelmed with grief and emotion._] They're engaged;
they're going to be married to-night, over champagne and lobster at my
house!

SIR WILFRID. Will you consider your--

CYNTHIA. [_Hastily, to get rid of him._] No, no, no, no! Thank you,
Sir Wilfrid, I will not.

SIR WILFRID. [_Calm, and not to be laid low._] Thanks awfully.
[CYNTHIA _walks away. Returning to_ VIDA.] Mrs. Phillimore--

VIDA. [_Returning his watch._] Too late! [_To_ KARSLAKE.] Jack, dear,
we must be off.

SIR WILFRID. [_Standing and making a general appeal for information._]
I say, is it the custom for American girls--that sixty seconds or too
late? Look here! Not a bit too late. I'll take you around to Jack
Karslake's, and I'm going to ask you the same old question again, you
know. [_To_ VIDA.] By Jove, you know in your country it's the pace
that kills.

[SIR WILFRID _follows_ VIDA _out the door._

JOHN. [_Gravely to_ C