CUSINS. But perhaps Barbara will not marry me if I make the wrong choice.
BARBARA. Perhaps not.
CUSINS [desperately perplexed] You hear—
BARBARA. Father: do you love nobody?
UNDERSHAFT. I love my best friend.
LADY BRITOMART. And who is that, pray?
UNDERSHAFT. My bravest enemy. That is the man who keeps me up to the mark.
CUSINS. You know, the creature is really a sort of poet in his way. Suppose he is a great man, after all!
UNDERSHAFT. Suppose you stop talking and make up your mind, my young friend.
CUSINS. But you are driving me against my nature. I hate war.