Con. And it was not you.
Fle. Certainly not.
Con. Decidedly, that Belgrave is insupportable.
Fle. He quitted me, swearing that he would find out who sent it, if he searched every flower-shop in London.
Con. And he is not a man to be imposed upon—at least, that’s his monomania. I was very curious to know who sent this bouquet, and he charged himself with satisfying my curiosity. I fear he will have only his trouble for his pains.
Fle. Why are you so anxious to know?
Con. Because in the present day the man who sends a bouquet anonymously, and does not inform you what it cost, is a rare specimen of the genus homo worth knowing.
Fle. You have a rare wit beyond a doubt, and you would be perfect if you would study the part in my piece.
Con. Ungrateful monster! Now can you guess why I have come here?
Fle. No.