MARGARET. Well, if there was?

DEARTH. If there was what, darling?

MARGARET. You know the kind of thing I mean, quite well. Would you
hate him at first?

DEARTH. I hope not. I should want to strangle him, but I wouldn't hate
him.

MARGARET. _I_ would. That is to say, if I liked him.

DEARTH. If you liked him how could you hate him?

MARGARET. For daring!

DEARTH. Daring what?

MARTARET. You know. (Sighing.) But of course I shall have no say in
the matter. You will do it all. You do everything for me.

DEARTH (with a groan). I can't help it.

MARGARET. You will even write my love-letters, if I ever have any to
write, which I won't.

DEARTH (ashamed). Surely to goodness, Margaret, I will leave you alone
to do that!

MARGARET. Not you; you will try to, but you won't be able.