Margaret. Her first husband was not a cotton-manufacturer but a great speculator—and she deceived him not with a tenor ...
Gilbert. Aha!
Margaret. What are you laughing at?
Gilbert. So you deceived him with a tenor? That's something I didn't know.
Margaret. How do you know I did?
Gilbert. Why, you've just informed me yourself.
Margaret. I ...? How? I said the heroine of my novel betrays her husband with a baritone.
Gilbert. A basso would have been grander—a mezzo-soprano more piquant.
Margaret. Then she goes not to Munich but to Dresden, and there has a relation with a sculptor.
Gilbert. Myself, I suppose ... disguised?