JOHN. I see what you mean. But Maggie wouldn't think better of me for
any false pretences. She knows my feelings for her now are neither
more nor less than what they have always been.

MAGGIE [who sees that he is looking at her as solemnly as a volume of
sermons printed by request]. I think no one could be fond of me that
can't laugh a little at me.

JOHN. How could that help?

COMTESSE [exasperated]. Mr. Shand, I give you up.

MAGGIE. I admire his honesty.

COMTESSE. Oh, I give you up also. Arcades ambo. Scotchies both.

JOHN [when she has gone]. But this letter, it's not like you. By
Gosh, Maggie, you're no fool.

[She beams at this, as any wife would.]

But how could I have made such a mistake? It's not like a strong man.
[Evidently he has an inspiration.]

MAGGIE. What is it?

JOHN [the inspiration]. AM I a strong man?

MAGGIE. You? Of course you are. And self-made. Has anybody ever