Eglantine.. Must I go so far as to shoot you in the leg, my dear George, to convince you that it will be an errand ill run ... that they are welcome to their gains ... that I count myself well rid of them.
Clown.. Oh! You don't count on my not telling the story, do you?
Eglantine.. Though I shot you as dead as mutton, every joint would squeak it, I feel sure.
Clown.. Oh!
Eglantine.. Quin; the door.
Clown.. Oh!
[Still he stands, grinning there.
Eglantine.. George, we are keeping my servant in a draught.
[Clown waddles out. Harlequin vanishes too. He is back in a moment to find Eglantine sunk in the chair facing the mirror to see--finery! And what else?
Quin. In the glass there ... is that Eglantine?