Lord Town. So, Lady fair; what pretty weapon have you been killing your time with!
Lady Grace. A huge folio that has almost killed me—I think I have half read my eyes out.
Lord Town. O! you should not pore so much just after dinner, child.
Lady Grace. That's true, but any body's thoughts are better than always one's own, you know.
Lord Town. Who's there?
Enter Servant.
Leave word at the door I am at home to nobody but Mr. Manly.
Lady Grace. And why is he excepted, pray, my Lord?
Lord Town. I hope, Madam, you have no objection to his company?