GLORIA. Gone. (Valentine's face lights up with sudden joy, dread,
and mischief. He has just realized that he is alone with Gloria. She
continues indifferently) I thought he was ill; but he recovered
himself. He wouldn't wait for you. I am sorry. (She goes for her book
and parasol.)

VALENTINE. So much the better. He gets on my nerves after a while.
(Pretending to forget himself.) How could that man have so beautiful a
daughter!

GLORIA (taken aback for a moment; then answering him with polite but
intentional contempt). That seems to be an attempt at what is called a
pretty speech. Let me say at once, Mr. Valentine, that pretty speeches
make very sickly conversation. Pray let us be friends, if we are to be
friends, in a sensible and wholesome way. I have no intention of
getting married; and unless you are content to accept that state of
things, we had much better not cultivate each other's acquaintance.

VALENTINE (cautiously). I see. May I ask just this one question?
Is your objection an objection to marriage as an institution, or merely
an objection to marrying me personally?

GLORIA. I do not know you well enough, Mr. Valentine, to have any
opinion on the subject of your personal merits. (She turns away from
him with infinite indifference, and sits down with her book on the
garden seat.) I do not think the conditions of marriage at present are
such as any self-respecting woman can accept.

VALENTINE (instantly changing his tone for one of cordial sincerity,
as if he frankly accepted her terms and was delighted and reassured by