Rover. Part!
Harry. Rover, you wish me well.
Rover. Well, and suppose so. Part, eh! What mystery and grand? What are you at? Do you forget,—you, Midge, and I, are engaged to Truncheon, the manager, and that the bills are already up with our names to-night to play at Winchester?
Harry. Jack, you and I have often met on a stage in assumed characters; if it's your wish we should ever meet again in our real ones, of sincere friends, without asking whither I go, or my motives for leaving you, when I walk up this road, do you turn down that.
Rover. Joke!
Harry. I'm serious. Good b'ye!
Rover. If you repent your engagement with Truncheon, I'll break off too, and go with you wherever—[Takes him under the arm.]
Harry. Attempt to follow me, and even our acquaintance ends.
Rover. Eh!
Harry. Don't think of my reasons, only that it must be.