Agnes. Did you ever know a man that was? You need a wife, Mr. Carew.
Tom. I know it: that's the reason I was thinking of you.
Agnes (laughs). You're the tenth miner who has said the same thing to me within a month.
Tom. Only ten? well, it's been a pretty bad month.
Agnes. I hope not.
Tom. Yes: the boys are off in their holes. Wait a few days, and the air will be black with matrimonial speculators.
Agnes. Then, I think I'd better be leaving.
Tom. Good fellows, too, who will make their advances timidly, and feel relieved when they are put out of their misery by a refusal.
Agnes. All of them?
Tom (dropping pack). No: for here and there among miners, as among men in every station, you will find one who looks upon women as pure gold; as something to be approached with reverence, and, if won, to be enshrined in the devotion of a life.