Quex.

Napier Bastling! [Breaking into a prolonged peal of laughter.] Ha, ha, ha, ha! Chick, he's just what I was at eight-and-twenty. Ha, ha, ha! what I was—and worse, damn him!—and she loves him.

Sophy.

[Who has been listening with wide-open eyes and parted lips.] It's not true! it isn't true!

Quex.

[Turning to her.] Isn't it! You think so, hey? No, I suppose you haven't experimentalised upon him; you haven't spied on him, and tempted him as you tempted me. You have never got him into a quiet corner and stuck your impudent face in his. If you had—

Sophy.

Oh! he wouldn't—!

[Frayne has walked away; Quex now joins him.

Quex.