Where the water spirits rove,
In the deep, deep sea.”
[DAMPER looks savagely at her as they go off, D.F.
Boss. Really, the courting people seem all to be getting to cross purposes! Ah, there is nothing like a platonic affection, is there, Miss Snare?
Miss Sna. I have no faith in platonic affections.
Boss. No!
Miss Sna. We might as well think of playing at snow-balls in July. The ice-cellar of propriety may yield the snow, but the moment it becomes exposed to the warm air of temptation, it dissolves into its original liquid!
Boss. ’Pon my life you’re a philosopher in petticoats—you certainly wear a hoop from the tub of Diogenes!
Miss Sna. Oh, flatterer.
Boss. Fact, really.