MRS. LUNN. My what!

JUNO. Your southern blood. Don't you remember how you told me,
that night in the saloon when I sang "Farewell and adieu to you
dear Spanish ladies," that you were by birth a lady of Spain?
Your splendid Andalusian beauty speaks for itself.

MRS. LUNN. Stuff! I was born in Gibraltar. My father was Captain
Jenkins. In the artillery.

JUNO [ardently] It is climate and not race that determines the
temperament. The fiery sun of Spain blazed on your cradle; and it
rocked to the roar of British cannon.

MRS. LUNN. What eloquence! It reminds me of my husband when he
was in love before we were married. Are you in love?

JUNO. Yes; and with the same woman.

MRS. LUNN. Well, of course, I didn't suppose you were in love
with two women.

JUNO. I don't think you quite understand. I meant that I am in
love with you.

MRS. LUNN [relapsing into deepest boredom] Oh, that! Men do fall
in love with me. They all seem to think me a creature with
volcanic passions: I'm sure I don't know why; for all the
volcanic women I know are plain little creatures with sandy hair.