[_Uncomfortably._] No, no, I couldn't permit it--I couldn't permit it.

SOPHY.

[_Holding his hand almost caressingly._] Well, well! we'll see--we'll
see. [_She clips his nails briskly and methodically. While she does so
she again hums a song, looking up at him at intervals enticingly, under
her lashes. Breaking off in her song._] My goodness! what a smooth,
young hand you have!

QUEX.

[_His discomfort increasing._] Er--indeed?

SOPHY.

Many a man of six-and-twenty would be glad to own such hands, I can tell
you. [_Patting his hand reprovingly._] Keep still! [_It is now his turn
to hum a song, which he does, under his breath, to disguise his
embarrassment. She looks up at him._] But then, you're an awfully young
man for your age, in every way, aren't you?

QUEX.

[_Gazing at the sky._] Oh, I don't know about that.

SOPHY.

[_Slyly._] You _do_ know. [_Wagging her head at him._] You _do_ know.