Georgiana.
[Holding out her umbrella.] Stand where you are or I’ll fire! [Recognizing Sir Tristram.] Tris!
Sir Tristram.
Why, George!
Georgiana.
Oh, Tris, I’ve been dreaming! [Falling helplessly against Sir Tristram, who deposits her in a chair.] Oh! oh! oh! Don’t look at me! I’m overtrained. I shall be on my legs again in a minute.
[She opens her umbrella and hides herself behind it, sobbing violently.
Sir Tristram.
[Standing over the umbrella in great concern.] My goodness! George, whatever shall I do? Shall I trot you up and down outside?
Georgiana.