MARGERY.
May be, she's a customer.
DICK.
No, no, great gentlefolks like she never wears patched toes nor heel-pieces, I reckon.
MARGERY.
Here's your hat. Now let me see how you can make a bow. (He bows awkwardly.) Hold up your head—turn out your toes. That will do capital! (She walks round him with admiration.) How nice you look! there's ne'er a gentleman of them all can come up to my Dick.
DICK—(hesitating.)
But—a—a—Meg, you'll come with me, won't you, and just see me safe in at the door, eh?
MARGERY.