_Maud._ Well, these are the--er--facts. There were two gentlemen under
vow--maybe you'll understand the working of that arrangement better
than I do?--under vow for the same young lady. [HYPATIA PRENDERGAST,
sit still, or I declare I'll pinch you!] One of them comes up and
tells her that he's arrived at the conclusion the other admirer is
the better man, and, being a friend of his, he ought to retire in
his favour, and he does it, too, right away. Now _I_ say that isn't
natural--he'd some other motive. Miss PRENDERGAST here will have it
he was one of those noble unselfish natures that deserve they should
be stuffed for a museum. What's _your_ opinion now?

_Culch._ (_perspiring freely_). Why--er--really, on so delicate a
matter, I--I-- [_He maunders._

_Hyp._ MAUD, why _will_ you be so headstrong! (_In a rapid whisper._)
Can't you see ... can't you _guess_?...

_Maud._ I guess I want to make sure Mr. CULCHARD isn't that kind of
magnanimous man himself. I shouldn't want him to renounce _me_!

_Hyp._ MAUD! You might at _least_ wait until Mr. CULCHARD has--

_Maud._ Oh, but he _did_--weeks ago, at Bingen. And at Lugano, too,
the other day, he spoke out tolerable plain. I guess he didn't wish
any secret made about it--_did_ you, Mr. CULCHARD?

_Culch._ I--ah--this conversation is rather ... If you'll excuse me--
[_Escapes with as much dignity as he can command._