Eglantine (aside). Perhaps he can be cured, then. (Shouts.) Dearest papa, you cannot conceive how delighted I am.
Coddle. Whisper, Eglantine, for Heaven’s sake! You, torture me!
Eglantine (shouts). Yes, papa.
Coddle. Sh—sh—for mercy’s sake!
Eglantine (softly). Forgive me, papa, it’s habit. O papa, I’ve seen him!
Coddle (aside). I hear every word. Seen whom?
Eglantine. The gentleman you have chosen for my husband.
Coddle. Husband? Oh, ah! I’d forgotten him. (Aside.) I really am cured!
Eglantine. Poor young man! I was miserable at first. I cried, oh, so hard!