LUCAS. Oh, I'd rather--

AGNES. [Rising.] Dearest, you need it.

LUCAS. [Rising.] Well--Fortune shall fetch my hat and coat.

AGNES. Fortune! Are you going to take all my work from me? [She is
walking towards the door; the sound of his voice stops her.]

LUCAS. Agnes! [She returns.] A thousand thoughts have rushed through my
brain this last hour or two. I've been thinking--my wife--

AGNES. Yes?

LUCAS. My wife--she will soon get tired of her present position. If,
by-and-bye, there should be a divorce, there would be nothing to
prevent our marrying.

AGNES. Our--marrying!

LUCAS. [Sitting, not looking at her, as if discussing the matter with
himself.] It might be to my advantage to settle again in London some
day. After all, scandals quickly lose their keen edge. What would you
say?

AGNES. Marriage--

LUCAS. Ah, remember, we're rational beings for the future. However, we
needn't talk about it now.