JESSIE. No—no.
JACK. Only a tiny one!
JESSIE. Hush! (they both hastily resume their positions back to back).
Enter JOGTROT at C.
JOGTROT (seeing them). Dos-à-dos! The lady pouting—the gentleman frowning! Then the storm I contrived to raise is still at its height (coming down and touching JACK on the shoulder; JACK turns to him with an intensely savage expression of face, making JOGTROT start back).
JOGTROT (in a soothing tone). Cheer up, my gallant young friend; the sex, you know, is capricious—“sipping each flower, changing each hour.” It is sad—very sad!
JACK (sulkily). For me, not for you, who have always opposed my marriage with my cousin.
JOGTROT. I? On the contrary, not ten minutes ago I asked her if she had any lingering affection for you, and her answer was—
JESSIE. That I would marry Mr. Chirper.