Mulligrub (aside). There’s “Dip” and—Eva, as I live!
Eva. I don’t understand you, Mr. Dasher.
Dasher. Upon the verge of a frightful precipice I totter. Beneath me are the whitened bones of many a mortal. If I fall not a tear will be shed for me.
Mulligrub (aside). Nary a tear, young man.
Dasher. ’Tis the valley of disappointed hopes.
Mulligrub (aside). Dip’s getting grave.
Dasher. Into this must I fall, unless the succoring hand be stretched forth to me.
Mulligrub (aside). The sucker!
Dasher. You, Miss Eva, you—admirable, divine, angelic—can stretch forth that hand to save Dasher from dashing himself into the valley.
Eva. Mr. Dasher, have you been drinking?