Quex.
Ha, ha, ha!
Sophy.
Am I right? am I right, eh? [Putting her cheek near his lips—speaking in a low voice, breathlessly, her eyes averted.] Tell me whether I'm right, my lord.
[For the first time, a suspicion of her designs crosses his mind. He draws back slowly, eyeing her. There is a pause.
Quex.
[In an altered tone, but keeping her in play.] Ha, ha, ha, ha! [Looking at his watch.] I—I am afraid I shall have to run away to dress for dinner very soon.
Sophy.
[Resuming her work, disappointed.] Not yet; you've plenty of time. But there, dangerous or not dangerous, in my heart I can't help holding with what my lady-customers are continually saying.