"Dare me?"
"Dee double dare you."
"He said that you're a sad product of Sir Walter Scott's novels, a singing, rollicking, flirting, lazy young cavalier."
"Didn't say lazy."
"No."
"I thought not."
"I added that for good measure."
"I thought so."
"And he warned me that there might be a streak of the old Stuart purple blood in your veins that might make you silly for life—"
"Didn't say silly."