RUTH.  Marriage is the principal one.

BLANCHE. I don’t believe in divorce, either.

MISS SILLERTON.  My dear, no woman married to as handsome a man as Mr.
Sterling would.

TROTTER.  You people are all out of date!  More people get divorced nowadays than get married.

BLANCHE.  Too many people do—­that’s the trouble.  I meant what I said when I was married—­“for better, for worse, till death us do part.”—­What is the opera Monday?

TROTTER.  Something of Wagner’s.  He’s a Dodo bird!  Bores me to death!  Not catchy enough music for me.

MRS. HUNTER.  You’d adore him if you went to Bayreuth.  Which was that opera, Clara, we heard at Bayreuth last summer?  Was it Faust or Lohengrin!  They play those two so much here I’m always getting them mixed!

MISS SILLERTON.  Wagner didn’t write Faust!

MRS. HUNTER.  Didn’t he?  I thought he had; he’s written so many operas the last few seasons!

CLARA.  I like Tannhaeuser, because as soon as you hear the “twinkle, twinkle, little stars” song, you can cheer up and think of your wraps and fur boots.

TROTTER.  My favorite operas are San Toy and the Roger Brothers, though I saw Florodora thirty-six times!

BLANCHE.  Mother would have gone with you every one of those thirty-six Florodora times.  She’s not really fond of music.

MRS. HUNTER.  Not fond of music!  Didn’t I have an opera box for four years?

TROTTER.  Why doesn’t Conried make some arrangement with Weber and Fields and introduce their chorus into Faust and Carmen?

DR. STEINHART.  Great idea! [To MISS GODESBY.] Did you get a lot of jolly presents?

MISS GODESBY.  Not half bad, especially two fine French bulls!

[All are laughing and talking together.

BLANCHE.  What did you get, Mr. Warden?

WARDEN.  Three copies of “David Harum,” two umbrellas, and a cigar case too short for my cigars.

MISS GODESBY.  Give it to me for cigarettes.

WARDEN.  It’s too long for cigarettes.  Then I had something that’s either a mouchoir or a handkerchief case, or for neckties, or shaving papers, or something or other.

TROTTER.  Yes, I know, I got one of those, too.

DR. STEINHART.  So did I!

BLANCHE.  I must start the women; we are coming back here to arrange a surprise for you men.

[She nods her head in signal to STERLING, and rises.  All rise.

STERLING.  One moment please.  One toast on Christmas night!  Ned, give us a toast.

ALL THE WOMEN. [But not in unison.] Oh, yes!  A toast! [Ad lib.]

WARDEN. [Holding up his glass.]

Here’s to those whom we love!  And to those who love us!  And to those who love those whom we love And to those who love those who love us!