Dingle.—The wealth of those bright eyes would make one rich though he were a beggar.
Em’ly.—Flattery from friends is at best embarrassing; from strangers it is wholly out of place.
Dingle (Aside).—There’s no humbleness in that remark. (Aloud) I crave your forgiveness; I am the last man in the world who would do an ungallant act.
Em’ly (Aside).—You are among the latest who did. (Aloud) Are you always mindful of a woman’s feelings? Do you treat them all with gentle courtesy?
Dingle (Aside).—There’s a little sarcasm in that; I wonder what she means? (Aloud) Certainly! I would scorn, loathe, abhor a man who could forget his duty in that regard.
Em’ly.—Even though she owed him money?
Dingle.—Eh! (Aside) What is she driving at? (Aloud) Miss Clyde, you are severe.
Em’ly.—If any one designated me as Miss Clyde they erred. Once more I repeat that I am not Dorothy Clyde.
Dingle (Laughs).—We will not discuss that point. I have danced with you twice to-night, and I have danced with no one else; and yet I have had the honor of twice dancing with the lady whose name you mentioned.
Em’ly.—The music has ceased. The guests will come this way. Excuse me.