SYLVIA (jumping up on her knees on the settee and speaking over the
back of it). What's up, Charteris? Julia been making love to you?

CHARTERIS (speaking to her over his shoulder). No. Blowing me up for
making love to Grace.

SYLVIA. Serve you right. You are an awful devil for philandering.

CHARTERIS (calmly). Do you consider it good club form to talk that way
to a man who might nearly be your father?

SYLVIA (knowingly). Oh, I know you, my lad.

CHARTERIS. Then you know that I never pay any special attention to any
woman.

SYLVIA (thoughtfully). Do you know, Leonard, I really believe you. I
don't think you care a bit more for one woman than for another.

CHARTERIS. You mean I don't care a bit less for one woman than
another.

SYLVIA. That makes it worse. But what I mean is that you never bother
about their being only women: you talk to them just as you do to me or
any other fellow. That's the secret of your success. You can't think
how sick they get of being treated with the respect due to their sex.

CHARTERIS. Ah, if Julia only had your wisdom, Craven! (He gets off the
table with a sigh and perches himself reflectively on the stepladder.)