JILL. Ah! self-seeking? But aren't we all, Dodo? I am.
HILLCRIST. [With a smile] You!
JILL. [Scornfully] Oh! yes—too young to know.
HILLCRIST. Nobody knows till they're under pretty heavy fire, Jill.
JILL. Except, of course, mother.
HILLCRIST. How do you mean—mother?
JILL. Mother reminds me of England according to herself—always right whatever she does.
HILLCRIST. Ye-es. Your mother it perhaps—the perfect woman.
JILL. That's what I was saying. Now, no one could call you perfect, Dodo. Besides, you've got gout.
HILLCRIST. Yes; and I want Fellows. Ring that bell.