KATE. What is it you want us to do, Dennis?
DENNIS. I want you to listen to both of us, for five minutes each; that's all. After all, we're your suitors, aren't we? You're going to choose between us. Very well, then, you must hear what we have to say. Mr. Norwood shall have five minutes alone with you in which to present his case; five minutes in which to tell you how beautiful you are. . . . and how rich he is . . . and how happy you'll be together. And I shall have _my_ five minutes.
NORWOOD (sneering). Five minutes in which to tell her lies about _me_, eh?
DENNIS. Damn it, you've had a whole year in which to tell her lies about yourself; you oughtn't to grudge me five minutes. (to KATE) Well?
DENNIS. Good. (He spins a coin, puts it on the back of his hand, and says to NORWOOD) Call!
NORWOOD. I never heard of anything so--Tails.
DENNIS (uncovering it). Heads. You shall have first knock.
NORWOOD (bewildered). What do you--I don't--
DENNIS. You have five minutes in which to lay your case before Mrs. Camberley. (He looks at his watch) Five minutes--and then I shall come back. . . . Is there a fire in the dining-room, Kate?
KATE (smiling in spite of herself). A gas-fire; it isn't lit.
DENNIS. Then I shall light it. (to NORWOOD) That will make the room nice and warm for you by the time you've finished. (He goes to the door and says again) Five minutes.
(There is an awkward silence after he is gone. KATE waits for NORWOOD to say something, but NORWOOD doesn't know in the least what is expected of him.)
NORWOOD (looking anxiously at the door). What's the fellow's game, eh?
NORWOOD. I don't like it. Why the devil did he choose to-day to come back? If he'd waited another week, we'd have been safely away together. What's his game, I wonder?
KATE. I don't think he's playing a game. He's just giving me my chance.
NORWOOD. You've decided that, Kate. You've had a year to think about it in, and you've decided. We love each other; you're coming away with me; that's all settled. Only . . . what the deuce is he up to?
KATE (sitting down and talking to herself). You're quite right about my not knowing him. . . . How one rushed into marriage in those early days of the war--knowing nothing about each other. And then they come back, and even the little one thought one did know is different. . . . I suppose he feels the same about me.