He (forcibly). Tom?
She. Mr. Thursby, I mean. He and I are very old friends, you know—I believe we are third cousins or so—and of course I don’t stand on ceremony with him.
He. And he does not stand on ceremony with you, I suppose?
She. Oh, no. In fact, we are first-rate friends. Indeed, when Dick Carey wanted to make love to me, he was quite jealous.
He. Oh, he was jealous, was he? The fellow’s impudence is amazing! When I meet him I’ll give him a piece of my mind.
She (demurely). Are you sure you can spare it!
He. Don’t irritate me too far, Jenny: I’ve a temper of my own.
She. You seem to have lost it now.
He. Do you not see that I am in a heat about this thing? How can you sit there so calmly? You keep cool like a—(hesitates) like a—