Miss Sna. Madam.
Miss Coy. You, in particular, have been making use of my name very freely.
Miss Sna. What have I said.
Miss Coy. Said! The other evening at Mr. Tattle’s, you said that my only motive for going to a watering place every summer, was for the purpose of riding a donkey, that the awkward paces of the animal might so set off my natural graces, that some wandering Lothario might be struck by them.
Miss Sna. I see nothing offensive in the remark.
Boss. (In his chair, F.E.R.) An elegant compliment I think.
Miss Coy. Don’t talk to me, puppy. (To BOSS.)
Boss. My dear Miss, I am sorry to see you so bitter, though I am not surprised at it. The superanuated beauty is ever the most acrimonious of old maids; as the finest Burgundy, when spoiled, produces the sharpest vinegar.
All. (But NIGGLE.) Ha! ha! ha!
[MISS SNARE kisses her hand to BOSS; he rises and looks at himself in the glass.