He: “No; Grinnidge is a very high-principled fellow, and wouldn’t listen; besides, he wasn’t there, you know.”
She: “Well, then, I will forgive you on these grounds.” He instantly catches her to his heart. “But these alone, remember.”
He, rapturously: “Oh, on any!”
She, tenderly: “And you’ll always be devoted? And nice? And not try to provoke me? Or neglect me? Or anything?”
He: “Always! Never!”
She: “Oh, you dear, sweet, simple old thing—how I do love you!”
Grinnidge, who has been listening attentively to every word at the register at his side: “Ransom, if you don’t want me to go stark mad, shut the register!”
Ransom, about to comply: “Oh, poor old man! I forgot it was open!”
Miss Reed, preventing him: “No! If he has been vile enough to listen at a register, let him suffer. Come, sit down here, and I’ll tell you just when I began to care for you. It was long before the cow. Do you remember that first morning after you arrived”—She drags him close to the register, so that every word may tell upon the envious Grinnidge, on whose manifestations of acute despair, a rapid curtain descends.