Ger. Who?
Col. G. I don't know, sir. (Lighting the gas.)
Ger. You should have asked his name. (Stands before the clay, contemplating it.)
Col. G. I'm sorry I forgot, sir. It was only an old man from the country—after his daughter, he said.
Ger. Came to offer his daughter, or himself perhaps. (Begins to work at the figure.)
Col. G. (watching him stealthily). He looked a respectable old party—from Lancashire, he said.
Ger. I dare say. You will have many such callers. Take the address. Models, you know.
Col. G. If he calls again, sir?
Ger. Ask him to leave his address, I say.
Col. G. But he told me you knew her.