Douglas. So, so, the pretty Mary has turned cobbler!
Mary. The pretty Mary has done nothing of the kind. She was only amusing herself while waiting—
Douglas. For me—her adorer, who languishes in her absence, and whose heart beats with rapture at sight of her beautiful face.
Mary. Don’t, Henry, be so sentimental. You know I don’t like it. Why not say, plain and plump, “I’m glad to see you!” instead of all that palaver about languish and heart-beats? You know I don’t like it.
Douglas. O, you don’t? Then hereafter this rapturous—
Mary. Henry!
Douglas. Mary, I’ve done. But what in the world were you doing on that dirty bench?
Mary. Well, I never! Dirty, indeed! Sit down there at once!
Douglas. What! I? You’re joking.
Mary. Very well, if you don’t choose to obey me, I’m off to my work. (Going, L.)