LADY CHESHIRE. I'm afraid so, dear.
CHRISTINE. But can't they be——
DOT. Ah! ah-h! [CHRISTINE and her mother are silent.] My child, I'm not the young person.
CHRISTINE. No, of course not—only—[nodding towards JOAN and Mable].
DOT. Look here! This is just an instance of what I hate.
LADY CHESHIRE. My dear? Another one?
DOT. Yes, mother, and don't you pretend you don't understand, because you know you do.
CHRISTINE. Instance? Of what?
JOAN and MABEL have ceased talking, and listen, still at the fire.
DOT. Humbug, of course. Why should you want them to marry, if he's tired of her?