Owen. Now hear me, mother, for I’m going to speak sense. You need not listen, Mabel.
Mabel. But it’s what I like to listen to sense, especially yours, Owen.
Owen. Then I can’t help it.—You must hear, even if you blush for it.
Mabel. Why would I blush?
Owen. Because you won’t be able to help it, when I say Mr. Gilbert.—See!
Mabel. Oh, dear Owen! that’s not fair. (She falls back a little.)
Owen. Well, mother, it’s with you I’m reasoning. If he was your son-in-law—
Widow. Hush! that he’ll never be. Now, Owen, I’ll grow angry if you put nonsense in the girl’s head.
Owen. But if it’s in the man’s head, it’s not a bit nonsense.
Mabel. Owen, you might well say I shouldn’t listen to you.