Miss Hard. Perhaps the other gentleman called, sir.
Marl. I tell you, no.
Miss Hard. I should be glad to know, sir. We have such a parcel of servants.
Marl. No, no, I'll tell you. (Looks full in her face.) Yes, child, I think I did call. I wanted—I wanted—I vow, child, you are vastly handsome.
Miss Hard. O la, sir, you'll make one ashamed.
Marl. Never saw a more sprightly malicious eye. Yes, yes, my dear, I did call. Have you got any of your—a—what d'ye call it, in the house?
Miss Hard. No, sir, we have been out of that these ten days.
Marl. One may call in this house, I find, to very little purpose. Suppose I should call for a taste, just by way of trial, of the nectar of your lips; perhaps I might be disappointed in that too.
Miss Hard. Nectar! nectar! that's a liquor there's no call for in these parts. French, I suppose. We keep no French wines here, sir.
Marl. Of true English growth, I assure you.