Hilda.
He's only forty, poor thing—and I've never known a coming young man who was less than that.
Basil.
He's a young man with a very bald head.
Hilda.
[Amused.] I wonder why you dislike him!
Basil.
[With a jealous glance, icily.] I thought he wasn't admitted into decent houses.
Hilda.
[Opening her eyes.] He comes here, Mr. Kent.