I always thought there was something wrong with me. Blessed if I’m not behind the age!
[Cis goes out.
Agatha Posket.
Forgive me, Æneas. Look at my bonnet! A night in Mulberry Street, without even a powder-puff, is an awful expiation.
Mr. Posket.
Agatha! How do I know Cis won’t be five-and twenty to-morrow?
Agatha Posket.
No—no—you know the worst, and as long as I live, I’ll never deceive you again—except in little things.
Lukyn and Vale enter.