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 assure 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 pronouncement has
a-hundred-and-eighty-five to pass 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.

QUEX.

Ha, ha, ha!

SOPHY.

Am I right? am I right, eh? [Putting her cheek near his lips—­speaking in a low voice, breathlessly, her eyes averted.] Tell me whether I’m right, my lord.

[For the first time, a suspicion of her designs crosses his mind.  He draws back slowly, eyeing her.  There is a pause.

QUEX.

[In an altered tone, but keeping her in play.] Ha, ha, ha, ha! [Looking at his watch.] I—­I am afraid I shall have to run away to dress for dinner very soon.

SOPHY.

[Resuming her work, disappointed.] Not yet; you’ve plenty of time.  But there, dangerous or not dangerous, in my heart I can’t help holding with what my lady-customers are continually saying.