ALEC.
[_Smiling._] London is an excellent place for showing one of how little importance one is in the world. One makes a certain figure, and perhaps is tempted to think oneself of some consequence. Then one goes away, and on returning is surprised to discover that nobody has even noticed one's absence.
DICK.
You're over-modest, Alec. If you weren't, you might be a great man.
Now, I make a point of telling my friends that I'm indispensable, and they take me at my word.
ALEC.
You are a leaven of flippancy in the heavy dough of British righteousness.
DICK.
The wise man only takes the unimportant quite seriously.
ALEC.
[_With a smile._] For it is obvious that it needs more brains to do nothing than to be a cabinet minister.
DICK.
You pay me a great compliment, Alec. You repeat to my very face one of my favourite observations.
LUCY.
[_Almost in a whisper._] Haven't I heard you say that only the impossible is worth doing?
ALEC.
Good heavens, I must have been reading the headings of a copy-book.
MRS. CROWLEY.
[_To_ DICK.] Are you going to Southampton to see Mr. Mackenzie off?
DICK.
I shall hide my face on his shoulder and weep salt tears. It'll be most affecting, because in moments of emotion I always burst into epigram.
ALEC.
I loathe all solemn leave-takings. I prefer to part from people with a nod and a smile, whether I'm going for ever or for a day to Brighton.
MRS. CROWLEY.
You're very hard.
ALEC.
Dick has been teaching me to take life flippantly. And I have learnt that things are only serious if you take them seriously, and that is desperately stupid. [_To_ LUCY.] Don't you agree with me?
LUCY.
No.
[_Her tone, almost tragic, makes him pause for an instant; but he is determined that the conversation shall be purely conventional._
ALEC.
It's so difficult to be serious without being absurd. That is the chief power of women, that life and death are merely occasions for a change of costume: marriage a creation in white, and the worship of God an opportunity for a Paris bonnet.
[MRS. CROWLEY _makes up her mind to force a crisis, and she gets up_.
MRS. CROWLEY.
It's growing late, Dick. Won't you take me round the house?
ALEC.
I'm afraid my luggage has made everything very disorderly.
MRS. CROWLEY.
It doesn't matter. Come, Dick!
DICK.
[_To_ LUCY.] You don't mind if we leave you?
LUCY.
Oh, no.
[MRS. CROWLEY _and_ DICK _go out. There is a moment's silence._
ALEC.
Do you know that our friend Dick has offered his hand and heart to Mrs.
Crowley this afternoon?
LUCY.
I hope they'll be very happy. They're very much in love with one another.
ALEC.
[_Bitterly._] And is that a reason for marrying? Surely love is the worst possible foundation for marriage. Love creates illusions, and marriages destroy them. True lovers should never marry.