Mann. [Moving nearer to him, with her hands clasped behind her] You know, you remind me awfully of your father. Except that you're not nearly so polite. I don't understand you English-lords of the soil. The way you have of disposing of your females. [With a sudden change of voice] What was the matter with you last night? [Softly] Won't you tell me?
BILL. Nothing to tell.
MABEL. Ah! no, Mr. Bill.
BILL. [Almost succumbing to her voice—then sullenly] Worried, I suppose.
MABEL. [Returning to her mocking] Quite got over it?
BILL. Don't chaff me, please.
MABEL. You really are rather formidable.
BILL. Thanks.
MABEL, But, you know, I love to cross a field where there's a bull.
BILL. Really! Very interesting.