Sir Peter.
[Fretfully.] Just so, Madam; that is what I complain of. All the while you are longing to return to these follies. You are not happy when you are alone with me.
Lady Teazle.
Great heavens, Sir Peter: you must not ask for miracles. What woman of fashion is ever happy alone with her husband?
Sir Peter.
There it is, Lady Teazle. You think only of fashion. And yet, when I married you——
Lady Teazle.
[Yawning.] Lud, Sir Peter, why will you be always returning to that painful subject?
Sir Peter.
Vastly painful, no doubt, Madam, since it prevents you from marrying Mr. Surface, behind whose screen I found you.