GEORGE. Me? Why she's as good as gold and ----

UNA. That's unfortunate. [Thinking.] Then I'll have to run away
with you and let her get the divorce.

BRAITHEWAITE [now really shocked]. Una!

UNA [innocently]. What, Dad? Have you something better to
suggest?

BRAITHEWAITE [fuming]. I can't permit it. I didn't mind the
uncommon scandal of your marrying a car conductor, but I
absolutely draw the line at common scandal.

UNA [a little bored]. Father, dear, why will you sometimes talk
to me as though I were the Public Service Commission? There's
going to be no scandal. You can keep it out of the newspapers.

GEORGE. Excuse me, but that don't make any difference. I don't
want to get a divorce.

UNA. You don't? Why?

GEORGE [embarrassed]. Sounds like a song, I know, but -- I love
my wife.

UNA [in despair]. And you're the unusual man I'm to marry.

BRAITHEWAITE [with the contempt of a professional toward an