DEARTH (who is not without a humorous outlook on his own degradation). I am uncommonly flattered, Alice, to hear that you have sent for me. It quite takes me aback.
ALICE (with cold distaste). It isn't your company I want, Will.
DEARTH. You know. I felt that Purdie must have delivered your message wrongly.
ALICE. I want you to come with us on this mysterious walk and keep an eye on Lob.
DEARTH. On poor little Lob? Oh, surely not.
ALICE. I can't make the man out. I want you to tell me something; when he invited us here, do you think it was you or me he specially wanted?
DEARTH. Oh, you. He made no bones about it; said there was something about you that made him want uncommonly to have you down here.
ALICE. Will, try to remember this: did he ask us for any particular time?
DEARTH. Yes, he was particular about its being Midsummer week.
ALICE. Ah! I thought so. Did he say what it was about me that made him want to have me here in Midsummer week?