MRS. CHEVELEY. [After a moment's reflection.] No, I don't think it
is quite a little thing.

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. I am so glad. Do tell me what it is.

MRS. CHEVELEY. Later on. [Rises.] And now may I walk through your
beautiful house? I hear your pictures are charming. Poor Baron
Arnheim - you remember the Baron? - used to tell me you had some
wonderful Corots.

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [With an almost imperceptible start.] Did you
know Baron Arnheim well?

MRS. CHEVELEY. [Smiling.] Intimately. Did you?

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. At one time.

MRS. CHEVELEY. Wonderful man, wasn't he?

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [After a pause.] He was very remarkable, in
many ways.

MRS. CHEVELEY. I often think it such a pity he never wrote his
memoirs. They would have been most interesting.

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. Yes: he knew men and cities well, like the old
Greek.

MRS. CHEVELEY. Without the dreadful disadvantage of having a
Penelope waiting at home for him.