having regard to your talent--and beauty -

FANNY. Thank you.

NEWTE. Had decided that the best thing you could do was to go upon
the stage. [He finishes, tolerably well pleased with himself.]

FANNY. That's all right. Very good indeed. What else?

NEWTE [after an uncomfortable pause]. Well, that's about all I knew.

FANNY. Yes, but what did you TELL him?

NEWTE. Well, of course, I had to tell him something. A man doesn't
marry without knowing just a little about his wife's connections.
Wouldn't be reasonable to expect him. You'd never told me anything--
never would; except that you'd liked to have boiled the lot. What
was I to do? [He is playing with a quill pen he has picked up.]

FANNY [she takes it from him]. What DID you do?

NEWTE [with fine frankness]. I did the best I could for you, old
girl, and he was very nice about it. Said it was better than he'd
expected, and that I'd made him very happy--very happy indeed.

FANNY [she leans across, puts her hand on his]. You're a dear, good
fellow, George--always have been. I wouldn't plague you only it is
absolutely necessary I should know--exactly what you did tell him.

NEWTE [a little sulkily]. I told him that your uncle was a bishop.