AGNES. I've anathematised my womanhood often enough. [She sits at the
table, taking out her work composedly.]

LUCAS. Not that every man possesses the power you have acquired--the
power of going through life with compressed lips.

AGNES. [Looking up, smiling.] A propos?

LUCAS. These people--this woman you've been so fond of. You see them
shrink away with the utmost composure.

AGNES. [Threading a needle.] You forget, dear, that you and I have
prepared ourselves for a good deal of this sort of thing.

LUCAS. Certainly, but at the moment--

AGNES. One must take care that the regret lasts no longer than a
moment. Have you seen your uncle?

LUCAS. A glimpse. He hadn't long risen.

AGNES. He adds sluggishness to other vices, then?

LUCAS. [Lighting a cigarette.] He greeted me through six inches of open
door. His toilet has its mysteries.

AGNES. A stormy interview?

LUCAS. The reverse. He grasped my hand warmly, declared I looked the
picture of health, and said it was evident I had been most admirably