ALICE. 'Is it a blow, Steve?'

STEVE. 'It's a come down. Ass, ass, ass! But I say, Alice, I'm awfully
glad it's I who have been the ass and not you. I really am, Colonel.
You see the tragedy of my life is I'm such an extraordinarily ordinary
sort of fellow that, though every man I know says some lady has loved
him, there never in all my unromantic life was a woman who cared a
Christmas card for me. It often makes me lonely; and so when I thought
such a glorious woman as you, Alice--I lost touch of earth altogether;
but now I've fallen back on it with a whack. But I'm glad--yes, I'm
glad. You two kindest people Steve Rollo has ever known.--Oh, I say
good-night. I suppose you can't overlook it, Alice.'

ALICE. 'Oh, yes, you goose, I can. We are both fond of you--Mr.
Rollo.'

COLONEL. 'Come in, my boy, and make love to _me_ as often as you feel
lonely.'

STEVE. 'I may still come to see you? I say, I'm awfully taken with
your Amy.'

COLONEL. 'None of that, Steve.'

ALICE. '_We_ can drop in on you on the sly, Steve, to admire
your orbs; but you mustn't come here--until Amy thinks it is safe for
me.' When he has gone she adds, 'Until _I_ think it is safe for Amy.'

COLONEL. 'When will that be?'