LORD DARLINGTON. I won't hear of its raining on your birthday!

LADY WINDERMERE. Tell them to do it at once, Parker.

[Exit PARKER C.]

LORD DARLINGTON. [Still seated.] Do you think then--of course I
am only putting an imaginary instance--do you think that in the
case of a young married couple, say about two years married, if the
husband suddenly becomes the intimate friend of a woman of--well,
more than doubtful character--is always calling upon her, lunching
with her, and probably paying her bills--do you think that the wife
should not console herself?

LADY WINDERMERE. [Frowning] Console herself?

LORD DARLINGTON. Yes, I think she should--I think she has the
right.

LADY WINDERMERE. Because the husband is vile--should the wife be
vile also?

LORD DARLINGTON. Vileness is a terrible word, Lady Windermere.

LADY WINDERMERE. It is a terrible thing, Lord Darlington.

LORD DARLINGTON. Do you know I am afraid that good people do a
great deal of harm in this world. Certainly the greatest harm they
do is that they make badness of such extraordinary importance. It
is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either