KATE (thoughtfully). You're very clever, Dennis.
DENNIS (cheerfully). Four years' study of the Turkish character.
KATE. But how do you know I'm not judging _you_ all the time?
DENNIS. Of course you are. But there's all the difference in the world between judging a stranger like me, and judging the man you thought you were in love with.
DENNIS. I know. That's why I said good-bye to the girl who had been with me these last four years, the girl I had married. Well, I've said good-bye to her. You're not my wife any longer, Kate; but if you don't mind pretending that I'm not your husband, and just give me a chance of making love to you--well, that's all I want.
DENNIS. No, I'm not. I'm very much in love; and for a man very much in love I'm being rather less of a silly ass than usual. Why should you love me? You fell in love with my uniform at the beginning of the war. I was ordered out, and you fell in love with the departing hero. After that? Well, I had four years--alone--in which to think about _you_, and you had four years--with other men--in which to forget _me_. Is it any wonder that--?
DENNIS. You arrive just in time, Mr. Norwood. I was talking too much. (to KATE) Mrs. Camberley, we are both at your disposal. Will you choose between us, which one is to have the happiness of--serving you?
NORWOOD (holding out his hand to her, and speaking in the voice of the proprietor). Kate!
(KATE goes slowly up to him with her hand held out.)
KATE (shaking NORWOOD'S hand). Good-bye, Mr. Norwood.
NORWOOD (astounded). Kate! (to DENNIS) You devil!
DENNIS. And only a moment ago I was comparing you to the Archangel Gabriel.
NORWOOD (sneeringly to KATE). So you're going to be a loving wife to him after all?
DENNIS (tapping him kindly on the shoulder). You'll remember what I said about Mesopotamia?
NORWOOD (pulling himself together hastily). Good-bye, Mrs. Camberley. I can only hope that you will be happy.
DENNIS (closing the door). Well, there we agree.
KATE. What a stupid little fool I have been. (She holds out her arms to him) Dennis!
DENNIS (retreating in mock alarm). Oh no, you don't! (He shakes a finger at her) We're not going to rush it _this_ time.
DENNIS. I think you should call me Mr. Camberley.