F. I never heard anything so perfectly amazing in my life.
A. And sometimes, Ethel says, they write each other two letters a week.
F. Two letters?
A. Two letters.
F. In one week?
A. That’s what Ethel says.
F. I wonder she doesn’t expect the ground to open and swallow her. I never heard of such deceit. Why, she’s going to lead the german with George at the Wentworths’ next week.
A. I know it.
F. Well, I’ve always said Kate West couldn’t be trusted out of your sight. (She turns, and opens the door.) I do believe that every time I open that door it is colder. I know I shall die before I get home,—or freeze my ears.
A. Think how dreadful it would be to freeze your ears. I knew a girl at boarding-school that froze her ears skating one vacation, and they hung down like rags. We used to tell her they were like a spaniel’s, and call her Fido. She’d get perfectly furious.