"Very nearly, Susan. I am the happiest man alive!"
"She is not half your age."
"She is twenty-five."
"And you are forty-seven. May and December! How can you possibly get on together?"
"Where love is, Susan, what else matters?"
"At your age, Joseph, you should have more sense than yield to such raptures. You must know you are talking nonsense."
"Come! you know better than that. It is your commonplace worldliness that is nonsense; and you know it. You were once a bride yourself."
"I was young then, Joseph. We get sense--or we should--as we grow older."
"Rose is young. Why may she not have fresh true feeling, just as you had yourself?"
"But has she? Does she go into raptures as you do, I wonder?"