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[_Gazing at the sky._] Oh, I don't know about that.
SOPHY.
[_Slyly._] You _do_ know. [_Wagging her head at him._] You _do_ know.
QUEX.
[_Relaxing slightly._] It may be so, of course, without one's being conscious of it.
SOPHY.
_May_ be so! ah, ha! not conscious of it! ho! [_Slapping his hand again, soundly._] Artful!
QUEX.
[_Flattered and amused._] No, no, I a.s.sure you! ha, ha!
[_They laugh together. His constraint gradually diminishes. After shaking some liquid soap from a bottle into the bowl, she places the bowl beside him on the bench._
SOPHY.
[_While doing this._] My young ladies at a-hundred-and-eighty-five all agree with me about you.
QUEX.
Do they?
SOPHY.
Yes, do they!
QUEX.
Your young ladies?
SOPHY.
My girls.
QUEX.
Ha, ha, ha! And what terrible p.r.o.nouncement has a-hundred-and-eighty-five to pa.s.s upon me?
SOPHY.
Seven-and-thirty, _you_ look--not a day older; that's what _we_ say.
There, dip your fingers in that, do!
QUEX.
Into this?
SOPHY.
[_Thrusting his fingers into the bowl._] Baby! [_The water splashes over her dress and his coat._] Oh!
QUEX.
I beg your pardon.
SOPHY.
Now what have you done? [_Wiping the water from his coat._] You clumsy boy!
QUEX.
Thanks, thanks.
[_She commences operations upon his left hand. He is now thoroughly entertained by her freedom and audacity._
SOPHY.
Ha, ha! do you know what _I_ maintain?
QUEX.
[_Laughing._] Upon my word, I dread to think.
SOPHY.
Why, that every man who looks younger than his years should be watched by the police.
QUEX.
Good heavens, Sophy--Miss Fullgarney!
SOPHY.
Yes--as a dangerous person.
QUEX.
Dangerous! ho, come!
SOPHY.
[_With the suggestion of a wink._] Dangerous. The man who is younger than he ought to be is always no better than he should be.
