Quex.
And my prudery is consistent with the most laudable intentions, I assure you. But the fact is, dear chap, I go in fear and trembling—
Frayne.
Ah!
Quex.
No, no, not for my strength of mind—fear lest any trivial act of mine, however guileless; the most innocent glance in the direction of a decent-looking woman; should be misinterpreted by the good ladies in whose hands I have placed myself—especially aunt Julia. You remember Lady Owbridge?
Frayne.
Why did you intrust yourself—?
Quex.
My one chance! [Taking Frayne to the table, against which they both lean shoulder to shoulder—his voice falling into a strain of tenderness.] Chick, when I fell in love with Miss Eden—