LORD GORING. Yes. I should fancy she came to grief if she tried to
get Robert into her toils. It is extraordinary what astounding
mistakes clever women make.

LADY CHILTERN. I don't call women of that kind clever. I call them
stupid!

LORD GORING. Same thing often. Good-night, Lady Chiltern!

LADY CHILTERN. Good-night!

[Enter SIR ROBERT CHILTERN.]

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. My dear Arthur, you are not going? Do stop a
little!

LORD GORING. Afraid I can't, thanks. I have promised to look in at
the Hartlocks'. I believe they have got a mauve Hungarian band that
plays mauve Hungarian music. See you soon. Good-bye!

[Exit]

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. How beautiful you look to-night, Gertrude!

LADY CHILTERN. Robert, it is not true, is it? You are not going to
lend your support to this Argentine speculation? You couldn't!

SIR ROBERT CHILTERN. [Starting.] Who told you I intended to do so?

LADY CHILTERN. That woman who has just gone out, Mrs. Cheveley, as