FANNY. No; but she might just as well, because I was sure to find it out.
DOCTOR. Find out what?
FANNY. A lot of things! Ah, doctor! if you had only heard her sigh as I have!
DOCTOR. Sigh?
FANNY. Yes; but that’s not all. Poor mamma! You’d hardly believe the number of pearly drops I’ve seen fall from her poor eyes into her teacup.
DOCTOR. Pearly drops?
FANNY. But that’s not all! (In a very mysterious manner.) I once heard her, when she little thought I was listening, say, in faltering accents, “Ah! if he had really loved me, would he not have declared his passion when I became a widow?”
DOCTOR. Did she? (Aside.) She loves me still! Dear Cleopatra!
FANNY. Who can she mean? I should so like to know. Perhaps, doctor, you’ll help me to find out; but here she comes (looking towards C. DOCTOR gives a violent start). Why, what’s the matter?
DOCTOR. Nothing; only a sort of a kind of a—of a—I scarcely know whether I am standing on my head or my heels!