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white muslin, but she doesn't count. She couldn't tell the story
without explaining that she objected to being kissed, could she?
And all the women would think her a fool and the men think her a
bore. And you need not be afraid that Gerald won't be my heir. I
needn't tell you I have not the slightest intention of marrying.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. You come too late. My son has no need of you.
You are not necessary.

LORD ILLINGWORTH. What do you mean, Rachel?

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. That you are not necessary to Gerald's career. He
does not require you.

LORD ILLINGWORTH. I do not understand you.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. Look into the garden. [LORD ILLINGWORTH rises and
goes towards window.] You had better not let them see you: you
bring unpleasant memories. [LORD ILLINGWORTH looks out and
starts.] She loves him. They love each other. We are safe from
you, and we are going away.

LORD ILLINGWORTH. Where?

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. We will not tell you, and if you find us we will
not know you. You seem surprised. What welcome would you get from
the girl whose lips you tried to soil, from the boy whose life you
have shamed, from the mother whose dishonour comes from you?

LORD ILLINGWORTH. You have grown hard, Rachel.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. I was too weak once. It is well for me that I
have changed.

LORD ILLINGWORTH. I was very young at the time. We men know life
too early.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. And we women know life too late. That is the
difference between men and women. [A pause.]

LORD ILLINGWORTH. Rachel, I want my son. My money may be of no
use to him now. I may be of no use to him, but I want my son.
Bring us together, Rachel. You can do it if you choose. [Sees
letter on table.]

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. There is no room in my boy's life for you. He is
not interested in YOU.

LORD ILLINGWORTH. Then why does he write to me?

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. What do you mean?

LORD ILLINGWORTH. What letter is this? [Takes up letter.]

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. That - is nothing. Give it to me.

LORD ILLINGWORTH. It is addressed to ME.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. You are not to open it. I forbid you to open it.

LORD ILLINGWORTH. And in Gerald's handwriting.

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. It was not to have been sent. It is a letter he
wrote to you this morning, before he saw me. But he is sorry now
he wrote it, very sorry. You are not to open it. Give it to me.

LORD ILLINGWORTH. It belongs to me. [Opens it, sits down and
reads it slowly. MRS. ARBUTHNOT watches him all the time.] You
have read this letter, I suppose, Rachel?

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. No.

LORD ILLINGWORTH. You know what is in it?

MRS. ARBUTHNOT. Yes!

LORD ILLINGWORTH. I don't admit for a moment that the boy is right
in what he says. I don't admit that it is any duty of mine to
marry you. I deny it entirely. But to get my son back I am ready

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