feeble, hey?--when he flinches at the mere admiration of beauty on the
part of a pal, connoisseur through that pal undoubtedly is.

QUEX.

Oh, my dear Chick, my resolutions are firm enough.

FRAYNE.

[_Dubiously._] H'm!

QUEX.

And my prudery is consistent with the most laudable intentions, I assure
you. But the fact is, dear chap, I go in fear and trembling--

FRAYNE.

Ah!

QUEX.

No, no, not for my strength of mind--fear lest any trivial act of mine,
however guileless; the most innocent glance in the direction of a
decent-looking woman; should be misinterpreted by the good ladies in
whose hands I have placed myself--especially aunt Julia. You remember
Lady Owbridge?

FRAYNE.