Juno.  But, my dear boy, if we admit we are in the wrong where’s the harm of it?  We’re not perfect; but as long as we keep the ideal before us—­

Gregory.  How?

Juno.  By admitting we were wrong.

Mrs. Lunn [springing up, out of patience, and pacing round the lounge intolerantly] Well, really, I must have my dinner.  These two men, with their morality, and their promises to their mothers, and their admissions that they were wrong, and their sinning and suffering, and their going on at one another as if it meant anything, or as if it mattered, are getting on my nerves. [Stooping over the back of the chesterfield to address Mrs. Juno] If you will be so very good, my dear, as to take my sentimental husband off my hands occasionally, I shall be more than obliged to you:  I’m sure you can stand more male sentimentality than I can. [Sweeping away to the fireplace] I, on my part, will do my best to amuse your excellent husband when you find him tiresome.

Juno.  I call this polyandry.

Mrs. Lunn.  I wish you wouldn’t call innocent things by offensive names, Mr. Juno.  What do you call your own conduct?

Juno [rising] I tell you I have admitted—­

Gregory { } What’s the good of keeping on at that? 
Mrs. Juno { together } Oh, not that again, please. 
Mrs. Lunn { } Tops:  I’ll scream if you say that again.

Juno.  Oh, well, if you won’t listen to me—! [He sits down again].

Mrs. Juno.  What is the position now exactly? [Mrs. Lunn shrugs her shoulders and gives up the conundrum.  Gregory looks at Juno.  Juno turns away his head huffily].  I mean, what are we going to do?

Mrs. Lunn.  What would you advise, Mr. Juno?

Juno.  I should advise you to divorce your husband.

Mrs. Lunn.  Do you want me to drag your wife into court and disgrace her?

Juno.  No:  I forgot that.  Excuse me; but for the moment I thought
I was married to you.

Gregory.  I think we had better let bygones be bygones. [To Mrs. Juno, very tenderly] You will forgive me, won’t you?  Why should you let a moment’s forgetfulness embitter all our future life?

Mrs. Juno.  But it’s Mrs. Lunn who has to forgive you.

Gregory.  Oh, dash it, I forgot.  This is getting ridiculous.

Mrs. Lunn.  I’m getting hungry.

Mrs. Juno.  Do you really mind, Mrs. Lunn?

Mrs. Lunn.  My dear Mrs. Juno, Gregory is one of those terribly uxorious men who ought to have ten wives.  If any really nice woman will take him off my hands for a day or two occasionally, I shall be greatly obliged to her.

Gregory.  Seraphita:  you cut me to the soul [he weeps].