Cox. [With a deep sigh.] Thank ye. [Seeing Box about to get up.] You needn’t disturb yourself, sir. She won’t come here.
Box. Oh! I understand. You’ve got a snug little establishment of your own here—on the sly—cunning dog—[Nudging Cox.]
Cox. [Drawing himself up.] No such thing, sir—I repeat, sir—no such thing, sir, but my wife—I mean, my intended wife—happens to be the proprietor of a considerable number of bathing-machines——
Box. [Suddenly.] Ha! Where? [Grasping Cox’s arm.]
Cox. At a favorite watering-place. How curious you are!
Box. Not at all. Well?
Cox. Consequently, in the bathing season—which luckily is rather a long one—we see but little of each other; but as that is now over, I am daily indulging in the expectation of being blessed with the sight of my beloved. [Very seriously.] Are you married?
Box. Me? Why—not exactly!
Cox. Ah—a happy bachelor!
Box. Why—not—precisely!