Mr. G. Dear no! That's your chaff; you were always a tease.
Miss Joe (bristling). A tease, Mr. G.? Why, I wouldn't demean myself. What can it matter to me what you take?
Mr. G. Come now, Miss Joe, don't be raspy this morning.
Miss Joe. Me raspy, indeed! Well, you do take the cake! You've been awfully down on the Bungs for a long time, have you and your friends, that Miss Harcourt and such.
Mr. G. Don't call her my friend, if you please, dear Miss Josey.
Miss Joe. Oh, come!—I say!—this is a trifle too much! Were not you and that Lawson, and others, fair pals; Local Optioners down to the ground, and all that?
Mr. G. (airily). Oh, now I am "freer" and much less "responsible." Makes such a difference!
Miss Joe. What are you at?
Mr. G. Why, my dear girl, this new Gothenburg system always has struck me as quite the sole chance Of escape from predicament truly contemptible—only fair promise of real advance. So glad to see you so active in aid of it!
Miss Joe (coquettishly). Oh, Mr. G.! if Miss H. could but hear——!