Polly. Never!
Think of me, dream of me,
Whatever you will,
That hour, that moment,
It rankles me still.
Besides, what should I have to say to you? A man who carries in his pocket other girls' pictures, and spends all his time kissing them.
Bijah (aside). Oho! I see where the shoe pinches. (To Polly.) Why shouldn't I? That's what I'd like to know. One moment you smile upon me, and my blood frantically and joyfully perambulates through my veins; and the next time my eager orbs behold you, an animated iceberg would be a more cheerful companion. You needn't flatter yourself that because you don't want me, no one else does. You can bet your sweet life, Bijah Bright doesn't mean to get left. No, ma'am. (Taking picture out of pocket.) Not when he has such a sweet face as this to look at.
Polly (tossing head). Don't flatter yourself that you can make me jealous. Precious little thought I give to you or your picture.
Bijah. You are just dying to see who it is.
Polly. Indeed, I'm not. Some baby-faced simpleton.
Bijah. Come, Polly, it is too bad for you to treat me so when I returned, hoping to share with you a secret.
Polly. Secret! Oh, tell it to me, do.