Tom. Ah! ah! a quadrille by all means—you’ll dance, Jerry?
Jerry. I know nothing about quadrilles, Tom—but the deuce is in it if I can’t cut as good a figure as this Mister Jemmy Green, so I don’t care if I do kick up my heels a bit.
Green. Aye, a dance, a dance.
After dance, Jerry advances with Sue.
Jerry. Sweet girl! may I be permitted to hope that the partnership of this evening may lead to one for life?
Sue. Ah! Sir, a dance affords you gallant gentlemen worlds of latitude for flattery and deceit.
Jerry. Nay, I am sincere, by heaven!
Sue. Come, Sir, they are about to waltz, and if you wouldn’t have my head as giddy as you seem to think my heart is, you will conduct me to a seat.
Jerry. With rapture! This is, indeed, Life in London.