YOUNG MASTER. It’s just that . . . well, you keep teasing me.

YOUNG WIFE. There now . . . come here, my darling, give me your little head.

YOUNG MASTER. Oh, that feels good.

YOUNG WIFE. Do you love me?

YOUNG MASTER. Oh, I’m so happy.

YOUNG WIFE. But you don’t have to cry about that too.

YOUNG MASTER (pulling back. Very irritated). There you go again. And I asked you specially.

YOUNG WIFE. What, when I say that you don’t have to cry for joy?

YOUNG MASTER. You said: cry about that too.

YOUNG WIFE. You’re getting all worked up, my love.

YOUNG MASTER. I know.

YOUNG WIFE. But you shouldn’t be. I’m glad that . . . that we’ll be parting as friends.

YOUNG MASTER. You’re doing it again!

YOUNG WIFE. Don’t you remember? What we said, the first time we met? Just good friends. That was so nice . . . at my sister’s, remember, at New Year’s, we were dancing a quadrille . . . Oh God! I should have gone hours ago . . . my sister’s expecting me – what am I going to tell her? . . . Goodbye, Alfred.

YOUNG MASTER. Emma! How can you leave me like this?

YOUNG WIFE. Like what?

YOUNG MASTER. Five more minutes.

YOUNG WIFE. All right. Five minutes. But will you promise . . . to keep still? All right? I’ll give you one more goodbye kiss . . . shh . . . be quiet . . . don’t move, I said, or I’ll get up straight away, my sweet . . . sweet . . .

YOUNG MASTER. Emma . . . my darling . . .

YOUNG WIFE. Oh Alfred. –

YOUNG MASTER. Ah . . . God in heaven . . .

YOUNG WIFE. Now I’ve really got to go.

YOUNG MASTER. Oh, your sister can wait.

YOUNG WIFE. I mean, go home. It’s too late to go to my sister’s now. In fact, what is the time?

YOUNG MASTER. How should I know?

YOUNG WIFE. Maybe by looking at your watch.

YOUNG MASTER. It’s in my waistcoat pocket.

YOUNG WIFE. Well, go and get it then.

YOUNG MASTER (springs to his feet with a mighty bound). It’s eight.

YOUNG WIFE (sits up quickly). Oh Christ . . . Quick, Alfred, pass me my stockings. What am I going to say? They’ll be expecting me back by now . . . Eight o’clock . . .

YOUNG MASTER. When will I see you again?

YOUNG WIFE. Never.

YOUNG MASTER. Emma! So you don’t love me any more.

YOUNG WIFE. Exactly. Pass me my shoes.

YOUNG MASTER. Never see me again? Here you are.

YOUNG WIFE. There’s a button-hook in my handbag. Hurry up . . .

YOUNG MASTER. Here.

YOUNG WIFE. Alfred – we’ve had it.

YOUNG MASTER (aghast). What do you mean?

YOUNG WIFE. Well, what am I going to say when he asks me where I’ve been?

YOUNG MASTER. You’ve been at your sister’s.

YOUNG WIFE. Fine, if I was any good at lying.

YOUNG MASTER. Well, you’re going to have to learn.