_He._ Every bachelor is a marrying man. It is only a question of finding a convenient wife. _She._ Like a convenient house, I suppose. _He._ Exactly. _She._ I wonder any woman ever consents to marry a man. _He._ They know their own sex too well to be willing to marry a woman. _She._ But men are such selfish creatures! _He._ You are amazingly pretty when you toss your head that way. It is worth coming from New York to see. _She._ It is well you think so; otherwise you might consider your voyage a waste of time. _He._ What, with the certainty of your consenting to marry me? _She._ I like your assurance! Why should I marry you? _He._ I supposed that with your sex the fact of my amazing attachment would be a sufficient reason. _She._ Your knowledge of our sex is then remarkably limited. Apparently, whether I happen to love you is of no particular consequence. _He._ Oh, love is said to beget love. _She._ But you love me, you say, because I amuse you. Now you don't amuse me in the least, and as I do not know just how to cultivate a passion simply on the rather doubtful ground of your affection, especially with the chance of its being transient, there really seems to be very little chance of reciprocity. _He._ Do you know what a tremendously hot day it is? _She._ I don't see the connection, and I am sure I am cool enough. _He._ But you make it very hot for me! How picturesque that ragged fellow over there looks, riding on the top of his high saddle. _She._ With a string of mules tied to his horse's tail. I am fond of the mules, their bells are so musical. _He._ And their bray. _She._ And the muleteers sing such weird songs. I hear them going by about four o'clock in the morning, on their way to the Havana market, and the effect is most fascinating. _He._ I should have expected you to be fond of the mules. _She._ Why? _He._ A fellow feeling is said to have a softening effect, and the mule's strongest characteristic is-- _She._ Consistency! _He._ And as I was about to remark, we are apt to value others most for the virtues we do not ourselves possess. _She._ You are sufficiently rude. _He._ There is always danger that honesty will be thought rude. _She._ Really, you begin to amuse me. Please go on; I would like to try falling in love on the amusement plan; it must be very droll. _He._ Oh, bother the amusement! Like the young ladies in novels, I would be loved for myself alone. _She._ I fear that would be more difficult than the other way. What have you ever done to make me admire you? _He._ Perhaps nothing. Admiration presupposes the capability of appreciation. _She._ Ah! What have you done, then, worthy of admiration? _He._ I have managed to find you at Marianao, and bring about a tête-à-tête before I have been here fifteen hours. _She._ Wonderful man! And of all that, what comes? _He._ That I ask you to marry me. That is certainly something.