Miss Sna. ’Tis a general invitation to all our friends. You will find a card at your house, Miss Skylark. Perhaps Mr. P. will escort you.
Pin. I’ll do anything to make myself agreeable. I’ll call for you. Shall I? (To MISS SKYLARK.)
Miss Sna. If you please.
Pin. I will.
Miss Sna. Do!
Pin. I will!
Miss Sna. (To BOSS.) We’ll leave them together; he may overcome his bashfulness when he gets used to being alone with his object. He is fond of her, no doubt—true love is never very loquacious.
Boss. Can’t say, never having known the passion!
Miss Sna. Ah, you will know it some day.
Boss. What are the symptoms? Explain as we go along, that I may be aware of my malady when I am attacked. (Crosses to L.)