Horace. I am not sacrificing her pleasure, it’s you. Why don’t you go?
Aunt. You know I can’t.
Horace. There’s nothing to prevent you, except your absurd vanity.
Minnie. For shame, Horace!
Aunt. Vanity indeed! How dare you?
Horace. It’s perfectly true. It’s just your nonsense about a dress.
Aunt. Very well, then, you shall see. I will go. I don’t care how I look.
Horace. And I am sure I don’t, either.
Aunt. Minnie shan’t be deprived of her evening. I’ll put on my yellow satin and look a perfect fright.