John Halliday

Donald Gibson: Listen, Harrington. Nancy cares for you.

Sir Guy Harrington: Does she?

Gibson: You can't let her down.

Harrington: What is it, exactly, you wish me to do?

Gibson: Well I want you to get rid of Peggy, and give Nancy a square deal.

Harrington: Am I to understand that you are suggesting that I should devote myself in the future to your wife?

Gibson: [Hesitates.; Steps away again, then quickly turns back.] Yes, that's it. You'll never regret it.

Harrington: [...] You may be right, and you may be wrong. But isn't that a rather noble attitude on your part? ... You're not trying to shift Nancy over to me so that you can go away with Peggy, are you?

Gibson: No, you don't understand, Harrington. You see ... when you really love someone, you want them to be happy. No matter what it costs.

Harrington: You know, I'm beginning to like you, Gibson.

Nancy Gibson: [Emerging from a brief catnap, she first turns to see an empty deck chair, then looks up just in time to acknowledge her traveling companion's return.] Well, did you find out?

Sir Guy Harrington: Yes, the captain assures me we'll dock by noon tomorrow.

Gibson: Oh, then we are making up time. I was so afraid we'd be late.

Harrington: So you're really... happy to be getting home.

Gibson: Oh, so happy.

Harrington: Just what does home mean to you, if I may ask?

Gibson: Why, it means ... everything I love! ... My house, my garden ... my husband...

Harrington: [Pauses to take a drag on his cigarette.] By Jove, I believe you mean it. It's most refreshing.

Gibson: [Turns and regards her traveling companion quizzically.] What's refreshing?

Harrington: Oh, to find, in this day and age, a woman who truly loves her husband. You know, I thought all American women were restless and dissatisfied.

Gibson: That just shows you haven't been to America.

Harrington: No, but I've met a good number of your countrywomen on the continent.

Gibson: Well, that accounts for it; our happy women stay home.

Harrington: [Gently] You didn't.

Gibson: Oh, but that's different: my mother was ill in Paris, they cabled for me, now she's all right.

Harrington: You know, I must meet this exceptional husband of yours.

Gibson: [Smiles] He'll be on the dock tomorrow.

Harrington: [Takes another drag, ruefully conceding his defeat.; This elicits one more quizzical sidelong glance before Gibson laughs along with Sir Guy, perhaps belatedly grasping what has just taken place.] Aren't husbands the faithful old things.