Rebecca. What things?
Kroll. Well, if it so happened that you were to step into the empty place—
Rebecca. I have the place I want, already, Mr. Kroll.
Kroll. Yes, as far as material benefits go; but not—
Rebecca (interrupting him, in a serious voice). For shame, Mr. Kroll! How can you sit there and jest about such things!
Kroll. Oh, well, I dare say our good John Rosmer thinks he has had more than enough of married life. But, all the same—
Rebecca. Really, you almost make me feel inclined to laugh at you.
Kroll. All the same—Tell me, Miss West, if I may be allowed the question, how old are you?
Rebecca. I am ashamed to say I was twenty-nine on my last birthday, Mr. Kroll. I am nearly thirty.
Kroll. Quite so. And Rosmer—how old is he? Let me see. He is five years younger than me, so he must be just about forty-three. It seems to me it would be very suitable.