Miss Tracer.
[Following him.] Oh, they're not a bad sort, by any means, if you just humour them a bit. We all have our little weaknesses, haven't we? I've mine, I confess.
Westrip.
They've both been excessively kind to me. [Turning to her.] And as for Madame de Chaumié——
Miss Tracer.
Oh, she's a dear—a regular dear!
Westrip.
[Fervently.] By Jove, isn't she!
Miss Tracer.
But then, my theory is that she was changed at her birth. She's not a genuine Filson, I'll swear. [Suddenly walking away from him.] H'sh!