VIVIE.  What for?

PRAED. Why, to saturate yourself with beauty and romance, of course.

[Vivie, with a shudder, turns her chair to the table, as if the work waiting for her there were a support to her.  Praed sits opposite to her.  Frank places a chair near Vivie, and drops lazily and carelessly into it, talking at her over his shoulder.]

FRANK.  No use, Praddy.  Viv is a little Philistine.  She is indifferent to my romance, and insensible to my beauty.

VIVIE.  Mr Praed:  once for all, there is no beauty and no romance in life for me.  Life is what it is; and I am prepared to take it as it is.

PRAED [enthusiastically] You will not say that if you come with me to Verona and on to Venice.  You will cry with delight at living in such a beautiful world.

FRANK.  This is most eloquent, Praddy.  Keep it up.

PRAED. Oh, I assure you I have cried—­I shall cry again, I hope—­at fifty!  At your age, Miss Warren, you would not need to go so far as Verona.  Your spirits would absolutely fly up at the mere sight of Ostend.  You would be charmed with the gaiety, the vivacity, the happy air of Brussels.

VIVIE [springing up with an exclamation of loathing] Agh!

PRAED [rising] Whats the matter?

FRANK [rising] Hallo, Viv!

VIVIE [to Praed, with deep reproach] Can you find no better example of your beauty and romance than Brussels to talk to me about?

PRAED [puzzled] Of course it’s very different from Verona.  I don’t suggest for a moment that—­

VIVIE [bitterly] Probably the beauty and romance come to much the same in both places.

PRAED [completely sobered and much concerned] My dear Miss Warren:  I—­[looking enquiringly at Frank] Is anything the matter?

FRANK.  She thinks your enthusiasm frivolous, Praddy.  She’s had ever such a serious call.

VIVIE [sharply] Hold your tongue, Frank.  Don’t be silly.

FRANK [sitting down] Do you call this good manners, Praed?

PRAED [anxious and considerate] Shall I take him away, Miss Warren?  I feel sure we have disturbed you at your work.

VIVIE.  Sit down:  I’m not ready to go back to work yet. [Praed sits].  You both think I have an attack of nerves.  Not a bit of it.  But there are two subjects I want dropped, if you don’t mind.

One of them [to Frank] is love’s young dream in any shape or form:  the other [to Praed] is the romance and beauty of life, especially Ostend and the gaiety of Brussels.  You are welcome to any illusions you may have left on these subjects:  I have none.  If we three are to remain friends, I must be treated as a woman of business, permanently single [to Frank] and permanently unromantic [to Praed].

FRANK.  I also shall remain permanently single until you change your mind.  Praddy:  change the subject.  Be eloquent about something else.