She: Oh!
I just told him I cared for another—he smiled.
It was merely to him so much pleasure beguiled
From a girl. Charge it up profit?—loss?—tell me which?
He thinks I am pretty, they say, but, not rich.
He would love me, perhaps, for a season or two,
So I told him that I loved another.
He: And who?
She (archly): Really, must I tell you?
He: No—your finger—yes, this!