LORD WINDERMERE. Well, dear, has the fan been sent home yet?
[Going R.C. Sees book.] Margaret, you have cut open my bank book.
You have no right to do such a thing!

LADY WINDERMERE. You think it wrong that you are found out, don't
you?

LORD WINDERMERE. I think it wrong that a wife should spy on her
husband.

LADY WINDERMERE. I did not spy on you. I never knew of this
woman's existence till half an hour ago. Some one who pitied me
was kind enough to tell me what every one in London knows already--
your daily visits to Curzon Street, your mad infatuation, the
monstrous sums of money you squander on this infamous woman!
[Crossing L.]

LORD WINDERMERE. Margaret! don't talk like that of Mrs. Erlynne,
you don't know how unjust it is!

LADY WINDERMERE. [Turning to him.] You are very jealous of Mrs.
Erlynne's honour. I wish you had been as jealous of mine.

LORD WINDERMERE. Your honour is untouched, Margaret. You don't
think for a moment that--[Puts book back into desk.]

LADY WINDERMERE. I think that you spend your money strangely.
That is all. Oh, don't imagine I mind about the money. As far as
I am concerned, you may squander everything we have. But what I DO