[Struggles with her.
"LADY BETTY. O you devil, you have kill'd my arm! Oh! Well—if you'll let me have it, I'll give you a better.
"MORE. [Aside to SIR CHARLES.] O Charles! that has a view of distant kindness in it.
"FOP. Nay, now I keep it superlatively. I find there's a secret value in it.
"LADY BETTY. O dismal! upon my word, I am only ashamed to give it you. Do you think I wou'd offer such an odious fancy'd thing to anybody I had the least value for?
"SIR CHARLES. [Aside to LORD MORELOVE.] Now it comes a little nearer, methinks it does not seem to be any kindness at all.
"FOP. Why, really, madame, upon second view, it has not extremely the mode of a lady's utensil: are you sure it never held anything but snuff?
"LADY BETTY. O! you monster!
"FOP. Nay, I only ask because it seems to me to have very much the air and fancy of Monsieur Smoakandfot's tobacco-box.
"MORE. I can bear no more.