can't tell you how much you interest me.

_Germsell_ [_aside_]. I know a milkmaid quite as fresh and rather more
original. [_Aloud_, _looking at his watch_.] Bless me! it is past six,
and I have an appointment at the club at six. So sorry to tear myself
away, dear Lady Fritterly. I can't tell you how I have enjoyed the
intellectual treat you have provided for me.

_Lady Fritterly_. I thank you so much for coming. I hope you will often
look in on our Sundays. I think, you know, that these little
conversations are so very improving.

_Germsell_. You may rely upon me; it is impossible to imagine anything
more interesting. [_Mutters as he leaves the room_.] No, Lady
Fritterly, this is the last time I enter this house, except perhaps to
dinner. You don't catch me again making one of your Sunday afternoon
collection of bores and idiots. What an insufferable prig that
Rollestone is!

_Fussle_ [_aside to_ Drygull]. Thank heaven, that pompous nuisance has
taken himself off!

_Drygull_ [_aside to_ Fussle]. I don't know which I dislike most--the
Pharisee of science or the Pharisee of religion.

_Rollestone_. If, then, you admit that the human organism not only
cannot generate force, but that the emotions which control the body are
in their turn generated by a force which is behind it, and that this
force is dependent for its manifestation on its own special conditions,
as well as on those of its transmitting organic medium, I venture to