[_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.