She. Yes; and she said you told her that you were coming to Cuba to find me.
He. Oh, that’s nothing. It isn’t to be supposed I told her the truth.
She. Do you speak the truth so seldom, then? Is there no dependence to be put on what you say?
He. None whatever; otherwise I should be continually hampered by the necessity of conforming my actions to my words. You can see yourself how inconvenient that would be.
She. For one who has had so little practice, very likely; but then you would find it a novel experience, I have no doubt.
He. Ah, you have given me an idea. I’ll try it when all other novelties in life are exhausted.
She. Don’t put it off too long, or from the force of habit you may find it impossible.
He. You underrate my adaptability.
She. Meanwhile I wish to know why you came.