MRS. H. Ahhh! But I have no right to resent it.—Is she better-looking than I? Who was it said—?
CAPT G. No—not that!
MRS. H. I'll be more merciful than you were. Don't you know that all women are alike?
CAPT. G. (Aside.) Then this is the exception that proves the rule.
MRS. H. All of them! I'll tell you anything you like. I will, upon my word! They only want the admiration—from anybody—no matter who—anybody! But there is always one man that they care for more than any one else in the world, and would sacrifice all the others to. Oh, do listen! I've kept the Vaynor man trotting after me like a poodle, and he believes that he is the only man I am interested in. I'll tell you what he said to me.
CAPT. G. Spare him. (Aside.) I wonder what his version is.
MRS. H. He's been waiting for me to look at him all through dinner. Shall I do it, and you can see what an idiot he looks?
CAPT. G. 'But what imports the nomination of this gentleman?'
MRS. H. Watch! (Sends a glance to the Vaynor man, who tries vainly to combine a mouthful of ice pudding, a smirk of self-satisfaction, a glare of intense devotion, and the stolidity of a British dining countenance.)
CAPT. G. (Critically.) He doesn't look pretty. Why didn't you wait till the spoon was out of his mouth?