] A friend of yours?
MAGGIE [now a scorner of herself]. I don't think much of her.
COMTESSE. In that case, tell me all about her.
MAGGIE. There's not much to tell. She's common, and stupid. One of
those who go in for self-culture; and then when the test comes they
break down. [With sinister enjoyment] She'll be the ruin of him.
COMTESSE. But is not that sad! Figure to yourself how many men with
greatness before them have been shipwrecked by marrying in the rank
from which they sprang.
MAGGIE. I've told her that.
COMTESSE. But she will not give him up?
MAGGIE. No.
SYBIL. Why should she if he cares for her? What is her name?
MAGGIE. It's--Maggie.
COMTESSE [still uninterested]. Well, I am afraid that Maggie is to do
for John. [JOHN comes down.] Ah, our hero!
JOHN. Sorry I have kept you waiting. The Comtesse?
COMTESSE. And my niece Lady Sybil Tenterden. [SYBIL'S head inclines
on its stem.] She is not really all my niece; I mean I am only half
of her aunt. What a triumph, Mr. Shand!
JOHN. Oh, pretty fair, pretty fair. Your brother has just finished
addressing the crowd, Lady Sybil.
SYBIL. Then we must not detain Mr. Shand, Auntie.
COMTESSE [who unless her heart is touched thinks insincerity
charming]. Only one word. I heard you speak last night. Sublime! Just
the sort of impassioned eloquence that your House of Commons loves.
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