[_Struggles with her_.

"LADY BETTY. O you devil, you have kill'd my arm! Oh! Well--if you'll
let me have it, I'll give you a better.

"MORE. [_Aside to_ SIR CHARLES.] O Charles! that has a view of distant
kindness in it.

"FOP. Nay, now I keep it superlatively. I find there's a secret value
in it.

"LADY BETTY. O dismal! upon my word, I am only ashamed to give it you.
Do you think I wou'd offer such an odious fancy'd thing to anybody I
had the least value for?

"SIR CHARLES. [_Aside to_ LORD MORELOVE.] Now it comes a little
nearer, methinks it does not seem to be any kindness at all.

"FOP. Why, really, madame, upon second view, it has not extremely the
mode of a lady's utensil: are you sure it never held anything but
snuff?

"LADY BETTY. O! you monster!

"FOP. Nay, I only ask because it seems to me to have very much the air
and fancy of Monsieur Smoakandfot's tobacco-box.

"MORE. I can bear no more.

"SIR CHARLES. Why don't then; I'll step into the company and return to