EUCLID. My love, not I; upon my word.
MRS. F. What do you suppose is in that basket?
EUCLID. Oh, I don’t know—pickled salmon. He! he! (aside.) I shall learn something.
MRS. F. It is a man.
EUCLID. Hey—what?
MRS. F. A man!
EUCLID. (aside.) The devil it was. My sweetest, you must be mistaken.
MRS. F. I heard him talk; he is De Mowbray, Julia’s unknown lover. He wanted to get out of the basket, but I told him I would have him carried out of the house. You see I want to break off the connexion.
EUCLID. Egad! the connexion is broke off with a vengeance.
MRS. F. But how serious you look—quite uneasy.