ROYS. (assuming a very lackadaisical look). This sort of thing! (Aloud.) Miss Josephine—I—I— (Aside.) It’s very awkward! if I only knew how to begin.
BART. (aside to him). Go on!
ROYS. Pardon my frankness, but it has been impossible for me to find myself in your charming society without being captivated—enchanted—by your fascinations, your—
JOSEPHINE (surprised). I thought it was my sister who—
ROYS. So it was! but she wouldn’t have me! that’s why I—
BART. (hastily aside to him). No! that won’t do!
ROYS. (shouting). No! that won’t do!
JOSEPHINE. (still more astonished). And you don’t hesitate to address me in this language before— (pointing to BARTON).
ROYS. Before my friend—my bosom friend—that I went to school with at Bagnigge Wells? Why should I? It is he who encourages me—who tells me to “go on.” You told me to “go on,” didn’t you?
JOSEPHINE (with intention, and looking at BARTON). But has it never occurred to you that you might have a rival?