Festus. Oh, no, no! that’s too silly.
Stella. Sir!
Festus. I mean, there’s too much of the sil in silver. (Repeats his reading. She imitates it.)
Festus. Ah! that’s better. Thank you: you are charming. (She looks at him.) That is, a charming reader. Go on.
Stella. (Reads.)
“What a world of merriment their melody foretells! How they tinkle”—
Festus. (Interrupting.) I beg your pardon: “twinkle.”
Stella. No, sir: “tinkle.”
Festus. But I am sure it is “twinkle.”
Stella. Can’t I believe my own eyes?