Jack. I am quite aware of the fact, and I don't propose to discuss
modern culture. It isn't the sort of thing one should talk of in
private. I simply want my cigarette case back.

Algernon. Yes; but this isn't your cigarette case. This cigarette
case is a present from some one of the name of Cecily, and you said
you didn't know any one of that name.

Jack. Well, if you want to know, Cecily happens to be my aunt.

Algernon. Your aunt!

Jack. Yes. Charming old lady she is, too. Lives at Tunbridge
Wells. Just give it back to me, Algy.

Algernon. [Retreating to back of sofa.] But why does she call
herself little Cecily if she is your aunt and lives at Tunbridge
Wells? [Reading.] 'From little Cecily with her fondest love.'

Jack. [Moving to sofa and kneeling upon it.] My dear fellow, what
on earth is there in that? Some aunts are tall, some aunts are not
tall. That is a matter that surely an aunt may be allowed to decide
for herself. You seem to think that every aunt should be exactly
like your aunt! That is absurd! For Heaven's sake give me back my
cigarette case. [Follows Algernon round the room.]

Algernon. Yes. But why does your aunt call you her uncle? 'From
little Cecily, with her fondest love to her dear Uncle Jack.' There
is no objection, I admit, to an aunt being a small aunt, but why an
aunt, no matter what her size may be, should call her own nephew her