Young Disc. (intelligently). I see. After Yarmouth style.
Young Turn. Well, something that way—only rather different style, y' know.
BEFORE "THE HUGUENOT."
An Appreciative Lady. Ah! yes, it is wonderfully painted! Isn't it lovely the way that figured silk is done? You can hardly tell it isn't real, and the plush coat he's wearing; such an exquisite shade of violet, and the ivy-leaves, and the nasturtiums and the old red brick; yes, it's very beautiful—and yet, do you know, (meditatively) I almost think it's prettier in the engravings!
BEFORE THE BURNE-JONESES.
A Fiancé. This is the "Wheel of Fortune," EMILY, you see. (Reads.) "Sad, but inexorable, the fateful figure turns the wheel. The sceptred King, once uppermost, is now beneath his Slave ... while beneath the King is seen the laurelled head of the Poet."
His Fiancée (who would be charming if she would not try—against Nature—to be funny.) It's a kind of giddy-go-round then, I suppose; or is it BURNE-JONES's idea of a revolution—don't you see—revolving?
Fiancé (who makes a practice—even already—of discouraging these sallies.) It's only an allegorical way of representing that the Slave's turn has come to triumph.
Fiancée. Well, I don't see that he has much to triumph about—he's tied on like the rest of them, and it must be just as uncomfortable on the top of that wheel as the bottom.
[Her Fiancé recognises that allegory is thrown away upon her, and proposes to take her into the Hall and show her Gog and Magog.