Bravo!
Georgiana.
Ah, Tris—don’t think me soft, old man. I’m a lonely, unlucky woman, and the tail end of this horse is all that’s left me in the world to love and to cling to!
Sir Tristram.
No, by Jove! I’m not such a mean cur as that! Swop halves and take his head, George, my boy.
Georgiana.
Not I! I’m like a doating mother to my share of Dandy, and it’s all the dearer because it’s an invalid. I’m off.
Sir Tristram.
Come along! [Turning towards the window, she following him, he suddenly stops and looks at her, and seizes her hand.] George, I never guessed that you were so tender-hearted.
Georgiana.