Last night you said——
Sibyl— I beg to be excused
From keeping foolish promises, when made
At two A. M., by moonlight. I’m afraid
My memory’s no better than a sieve.
So you expected me? The Lord forgive
Your trusting soul!
Bob— It is His metier!
Sibyl—Don’t be outrageous, or I’ll run away.
Bob— Ah, no; don’t go. I will be good, I swear!