PHOEBE. I did not mean to tell you.
VALENTINE. She will be my wife yet.
PHOEBE. Never.
VALENTINE. You are severe, Miss Livvy. But it is because you are partial to her, and I am happy of that.
PHOEBE (in growing horror of herself). I partial to her! I am laughing at both of you. Miss Phoebe. La, that old thing.
VALENTINE (sternly). Silence!
PHOEBE. I hate her and despise her. If you knew what she is——
(He stops her with a gesture.)
VALENTINE. I know what you are.
PHOEBE. That paragon who has never been guilty of the slightest deviation from the strictest propriety.