of the heart in which you appear to be an expert.

VALENTINE (restlessly). What are you driving at, Mrs. Clandon?

MRS. CLANDON. I think you know.

VALENTINE. Gloria?

MRS. CLANDON. Yes. Gloria.

VALENTINE (surrendering). Well, yes: I'm in love with Gloria.
(Interposing as she is about to speak.) I know what you're going to
say: I've no money.

MRS. CLANDON. I care very little about money, Mr. Valentine.

VALENTINE. Then you're very different to all the other mothers who
have interviewed me.

MRS. CLANDON. Ah, now we are coming to it, Mr. Valentine. You are
an old hand at this. (He opens his mouth to protest: she cuts him short
with some indignation.) Oh, do you think, little as I understand these
matters, that I have not common sense enough to know that a man who
could make as much way in one interview with such a woman as my
daughter, can hardly be a novice!

VALENTINE. I assure you---

MRS. CLANDON (stopping him). I am not blaming you, Mr. Valentine. It
is Gloria's business to take care of herself; and you have a right to