CAPT. G. I shall like it above all things, and I shall only be sorry
that I didn't get more. (Aside.) Now what in the world am I
saying?

Miss T. Very well. You will have only yourself to thank if your
toes are trodden on. Shall we say Seven?

CAPT. G. And Eleven. (Aside.) She can't be more than eight
stone, but, even then, it's an absurdly small foot. (Looks at his own
riding boots.)

Miss T. They're beautifully shiny. I can almost see my face in
them.

CAPT. G. I was thinking whether I should have to go on crutches
for the rest of my life if you trod on my toes.

Miss T. Very likely. Why not change Eleven for a square?

CAPT. G. No, please! I want them both waltzes. Won't you write
them down?

Miss T. J don't get so many dances that I shall confuse them. You
will be the offender.

CAPT. G. Wait and see! (Aside.) She doesn't dance perfectly,
perhaps, but

Miss T. Your tea must have got cold by this time. Won't you have