LORD DARLINGTON. Your wife's fan?
LORD WINDERMERE. Yes, here it is!
LORD DARLINGTON. [Walking towards him.] I don't know!
LORD WINDERMERE. You must know. I demand an explanation. Don't hold me, you fool. [To CECIL GRAHAM.]
LORD DARLINGTON. [Aside.] She is here after all!
LORD WINDERMERE. Speak, sir! Why is my wife's fan here? Answer me! By God! I'll search your rooms, and if my wife's here, I'll - [Moves.]
LORD DARLINGTON. You shall not search my rooms. You have no right to do so. I forbid you!
LORD WINDERMERE. You scoundrel! I'll not leave your room till I have searched every corner of it! What moves behind that curtain? [Rushes towards the curtain C.]