I'd make you a steady wife, and run a home for you.

HUBERT: There's nothing to be ashamed of in being steady. I'm steady
myself.

OLIVIA: I know you are. HUBERT: Then why aren't you keen?

OLIVIA (_after a pause, tolerant but weary_): Because you're an
unmitigated bore.

HUBERT: A bore? (_Horrified_) _Me_, a bore? Upon my word,
Olivia, I think you're a bit eccentric, I do really. Sorry to be rude,
and all that, but that's put the kybosh on it! People could call me a
thing or two, but I've never been called a bore!

OLIVIA: Bores never are. People are too bored with them to call them
anything.

HUBERT: I suppose you'd be more likely to say "Yes" if I were an
unmitigated bounder?

OLIVIA (_with a laugh_): Oh, don't be silly....

HUBERT (_going to her_): You're a rum girl, Olivia, upon my soul
you are. P'raps that's why I think you're so jolly attractive. Like a
mouse one minute, and then this straight-from-the-shoulder business....
What _is_ a sonnet?

OLIVIA: It's a poem of fourteen lines.