Be quiet! [Sobbing.] What are you fooling about here for? Why can’t you lie quietly in your cot?
Sir Tristram.
Confound that cot! Why, it wouldn’t hold my photograph. Where are you going?
Georgiana.
Into the stable to sit with Dandy. The thunder’s awful in my room; when it gets tired it seems to sit down on my particular bit of roof. I did doze once, and then I had a frightful dream. I dreamt that Dandy had sold himself to a circus, and that they were hooting him because he had lost his tail. There’s an omen!
Sir Tristram.
Don’t, don’t—be a man, George, be a man!
Georgiana.
[Shutting her umbrella.] I know I’m dreadfully effeminate. There—Tidd’s himself again!
Sir Tristram.