LORD SUMMERHAYS. The great question. The question that men and women
will spend hours over without complaining. The question that occupies
all the novel readers and all the playgoers. The question they never
get tired of.

JOHNNY. But what question?

LORD SUMMERHAYS. The question which particular young man some young
woman will mate with.

PERCIVAL. As if it mattered!

HYPATIA. _[sharply]_ Whats that you said?

PERCIVAL. I said: As if it mattered.

HYPATIA. I call that ungentlemanly.

PERCIVAL. Do you care about that? you who are so magnificently
unladylike!

JOHNNY. Look here, Mr Percival: youre not supposed to insult my
sister.

HYPATIA. Oh, shut up, Johnny. I can take care of myself. Dont you
interfere.

JOHNNY. Oh, very well. If you choose to give yourself away like
that--to allow a man to call you unladylike and then to be unladylike,