Hilda. That's your own fault. You could have selected Ph. B. Herbert did.
Jamie. But Herbert knows more than I do, too. [He grins, away from her.]
Hilda. Why, Jamie, he doesn't either! He doesn't know anything but botany. I'm glad you aren't an old prosy botanist.
Jamie. Maybe I'm not a very good botanist, but I've prided myself on my taste in flowers——
Hilda. Now what makes you say that? You don't know a cowslip from a hollyhock!
Jamie. Maybe not, but I fell in love with you, didn't I?
Hilda [snuggling very close]. Dearest! [Again the modest man in the moon hides his face behind a cloud.]
Jamie [reminiscently]. Do you remember what happened a month ago to-night?
Hilda [softly]. Of course I do.
Jamie. What?