Flut. Oh, yes;—I know her very well.
Dor. Do you, my dear Fellow? Who?
Flut. She's kept by Lord George Jennett.
Har. Impudent Scoundrel! [Aside.]
Dor. Kept!!!
Flut. Yes; Colonel Gorget had her first;—then Mr. Loveill;—then—I forget exactly how many; and at last she's Lord George's. [Talks to other Masks.]
Dor. I'll murder Gorget, poison Lord George, and shoot myself.
Har. Now's the time, I see, to clear up the whole. Mr. Doricourt!—I say—Flutter was mistaken; I know who you are in love with.
Dor. A strange rencontre! Who?
Har. My Letty.