PRAED [diffidently] I’m afraid theres nothing else in the world that I can talk about.  The Gospel of Art is the only one I can preach.  I know Miss Warren is a great devotee of the Gospel of Getting On; but we can’t discuss that without hurting your feelings, Frank, since you are determined not to get on.

FRANK.  Oh, don’t mind my feelings.  Give me some improving advice by all means:  it does me ever so much good.  Have another try to make a successful man of me, Viv.  Come:  lets have it all:  energy, thrift, foresight, self-respect, character.  Don’t you hate people who have no character, Viv?

VIVIE [wincing] Oh, stop, stop.  Let us have no more of that horrible cant.  Mr Praed:  if there are really only those two gospels in the world, we had better all kill ourselves; for the same taint is in both, through and through.

FRANK [looking critically at her] There is a touch of poetry about you today, Viv, which has hitherto been lacking.

PRAED [remonstrating] My dear Frank:  aren’t you a little unsympathetic?

VIVIE [merciless to herself] No:  it’s good for me.  It keeps me from being sentimental.

FRANK [bantering her] Checks your strong natural propensity that way, don’t it?

VIVIE [almost hysterically] Oh yes:  go on:  don’t spare me.  I was sentimental for one moment in my life—­beautifully sentimental—­by moonlight; and now—­

FRANK [quickly] I say, Viv:  take care.  Don’t give yourself away.

VIVIE.  Oh, do you think Mr Praed does not know all about my mother? [Turning on Praed] You had better have told me that morning, Mr Praed.  You are very old fashioned in your delicacies, after all.

PRAED. Surely it is you who are a little old fashioned in your prejudices, Miss Warren.  I feel bound to tell you, speaking as an artist, and believing that the most intimate human relationships are far beyond and above the scope of the law, that though I know that your mother is an unmarried woman, I do not respect her the less on that account.  I respect her more.

FRANK [airily] Hear! hear!

VIVIE [staring at him] Is that all you know?

PRAED. Certainly that is all.

VIVIE.  Then you neither of you know anything.  Your guesses are innocence itself compared with the truth.

PRAED [rising, startled and indignant, and preserving his politeness with an effort] I hope not. [More emphatically] I hope not, Miss Warren.

FRANK [whistles] Whew!

VIVIE.  You are not making it easy for me to tell you, Mr Praed.

PRAED [his chivalry drooping before their conviction] If there is anything worse—­that is, anything else—­are you sure you are right to tell us, Miss Warren?