ann. Make use of me.
george. Ann, you marry—when you marry—to please yourself.
ann. There's much in life that I don't like, Sally.
sarah. There's much more that you will.
george. I think we three have never talked together before.
abud, who has been in sight on the terrace for a few moments, now comes down the steps.
abud. May I make so bold, sir, as to ask how is Mrs. George Leete?
george. She was well when I last heard.
abud. Thank you, sir.
And he returns to his work.