Larry [naively].  But that was the very thing I was going to advise you to do.

Nora [involuntarily].  Oh you brute! to tell me that to me face.

Larry [nervously relapsing into his most Irish manner].  Nora, dear, don’t you understand that I’m an Irishman, and he’s an Englishman.  He wants you; and he grabs you.  I want you; and I quarrel with you and have to go on wanting you.

Nora.  So you may.  You’d better go back to England to the animated beefsteaks you’re so fond of.

Larry [amazed].  Nora! [Guessing where she got the metaphor] He’s been talking about me, I see.  Well, never mind:  we must be friends, you and I. I don’t want his marriage to you to be his divorce from me.

Nora.  You care more for him than you ever did for me.

Larry [with curt sincerity].  Yes of course I do:  why should I tell you lies about it?  Nora Reilly was a person of very little consequence to me or anyone else outside this miserable little hole.  But Mrs Tom Broadbent will be a person of very considerable consequence indeed.  Play your new part well, and there will be no more neglect, no more loneliness, no more idle regrettings and vain-hopings in the evenings by the Round Tower, but real life and real work and real cares and real joys among real people:  solid English life in London, the very centre of the world.  You will find your work cut out for you keeping Tom’s house and entertaining Tom’s friends and getting Tom into parliament; but it will be worth the effort.

Nora.  You talk as if I were under an obligation to him for marrying me.

Larry.  I talk as I think.  You’ve made a very good match, let me tell you.

Nora.  Indeed!  Well, some people might say he’s not done so badly himself.

Larry.  If you mean that you will be a treasure to him, he thinks so now; and you can keep him thinking so if you like.

Nora.  I wasn’t thinking o meself at all.

Larry.  Were you thinking of your money, Nora?

Nora.  I didn’t say so.

Larry.  Your money will not pay your cook’s wages in London.

Nora [flaming up].  If that’s true—­and the more shame for you to throw it in my face if it is true—­at all events it’ll make us independent; for if the worst comes to the worst, we can always come back here an live on it.  An if I have to keep his house for him, at all events I can keep you out of it; for I’ve done with you; and I wish I’d never seen you.  So goodbye to you, Mister Larry Doyle. [She turns her back on him and goes home].

Larry [watching her as she goes].  Goodbye.  Goodbye.  Oh, that’s so
Irish!  Irish both of us to the backbone:  Irish, Irish, Irish—­

Broadbent arrives, conversing energetically with Keegan.

Broadbent.  Nothing pays like a golfing hotel, if you hold the land instead of the shares, and if the furniture people stand in with you, and if you are a good man of business.