you to value those things, because your outlook on life is bounded by
them; but all this jars on me.

MAGGIE. Does it?

JOHN. Why should you be so ready to go?

MAGGIE. I promised not to stand in your way.

JOHN [stoutly]. You needn't be in such a hurry. There are three days
to run yet. [The French are so different from us that we shall
probably never be able to understand why the COMTESSE laughed aloud
here.] It's just a joke to the Comtesse.

COMTESSE. It seems to be no joke to you, Mr. Shand. Sybil, my pet,
are you to let him off?

SYBIL [flashing]. Let him off? If he wishes it. Do you?

JOHN [manfully]. I want it to go on. [Something seems to have caught
in his throat: perhaps it is the impediment trying a temporary home.]
It's the one wish of my heart. If you come with me, Sybil, I'll do
all in a man's power to make you never regret it.

[Triumph of the Vere de Veres.]

MAGGIE [bringing them back to earth with a dump]. And I can make my
arrangements for Wednesday?

SYBIL [seeking the COMTESSE's protection]. No, you can't. Auntie, I