MARGARET. You know the kind of thing I mean, quite well. Would you hate him at first?
DEARTH. I hope not. I should want to strangle him, but I wouldn't hate him.
MARGARET. I would. That is to say, if I liked him.
DEARTH. If you liked him how could you hate him?
MARGARET. For daring!
DEARTH. Daring what?
MARGARET. You know. (Sighing.) But of course I shall have no say in the matter. You will do it all. You do everything for me.
DEARTH (with a groan). I can't help it.
MARGARET. You will even write my love-letters, if I ever have any to write, which I won't.
DEARTH (ashamed). Surely to goodness, Margaret, I will leave you alone to do that!