PHOEBE. Oh, sir, you are indeed dashing. Nay, sir, please not to scowl, I could not avoid noticing them.
VALENTINE. Noticing what, Miss Livvy?
PHOEBE. The grey hairs, sir.
VALENTINE. I vow, ma'am, there is not one in my head.
PHOEBE. He is such a quiz. I so love a quiz.
VALENTINE. Then, ma'am, I shall do nothing but quiz you at the ball. Miss Susan, I beg you—
MISS SUSAN. Oh, sir, dissuade her.
VALENTINE. Nay, I entreat.
PHOEBE. Auntie!
MISS SUSAN. Think, my dear, think, we dare not.