carnaby. Tatton has persistence.
sarah. Mr. Tat, do you know where people go who take things seriously?
mr. tatton. Miss Leete, were you frightened when Lord John kissed you?
george. Damnation!
carnaby. My excellent Tatton, much as I admire your searchings after truth I must here parentally intervene, regretting, my dear Tatton, that my own carelessness of duennahood has permitted this—this . . . to occur.
After this, there is silence for a minute.
lord john. Can I borrow a horse of you, Mr. Leete?
carnaby. My entire stable; and your Ronald shall be physicked.
sarah. Spartans that you are to be riding!
lord john. I prefer it to a jolting chaise.