MISS SKY. I am sorry to see you so embarrassed, Mr. Pinkey; the indignation that I expressed this afternoon when I returned your letters, has been entirely removed by your generous conduct in defending me. Don't attempt to speak just now; because I know you can't if you were to try. Think of what I have said; but pray avoid my presence till you have acquired sufficient courage to express your wishes. Good evening, I leave you like--_(Singing.)_ "The last rose of summer Left blooming alone; Whose lovely companions Are faded and gone." [_Exit._ PIN. _(Rising with energy.)_ I must and I will shake off my shyness. What can I do? I'll run home and try what a bottle or two of port--or sherry--or a bottle of each will do for me. I cannot live this life, it's killing me by inches. Oh! she's coming back--I will make a desperate rush--a kind of despair seems to fill my heart that gives me a sort of courage; and, if it isn't of the right sort, it may answer just as well. I wont wait to look at her, that always does for me--I wont wait to think--I'll only say--"Will you be mine." Then if she says "Yes," there's an end of the matter. No more speeches--all rubbish--a few words--short and to the point, that's the way--I know it--I feel it. _MISS MACAW enters F.E.L.; PINKEY'S back is towards her._ MISS MAC. I've left my reticule. [_PINKEY rushes towards her and falls on both his knees._ PIN. Will you be mine? MISS MAC. _(Boxing his ears.)_ That's for your impertinence, sir. PIN. It's the wrong woman, and all my courage has been thrown away. I'll really beg---- MISS MAC. How dare you, sir? PIN. I didn't know. MISS MAC. Have I ever encouraged you? PIN. No, no, you never did. MISS MAC. Begone, contemptible creature. _(Stamps her foot; PINKEY runs off in alarm, L.)_ A little presumptuous mortal, to dare to take such a liberty. Where's my reticule? _(Searching the chairs.)_ DAM. _(Without.)_ Oh, here, is she? _Enter DAMPER, F.E.L._ DAM. I've made up my mind now, what to do. He will not be guided by me any longer, he _will_ rush to his ruin; but I'll first get married myself, to show him how right I am in all that I said of the misery of the state. Miss Maria Macaw. MISS MAC. Sir. DAM. I have been looking for you. Sit down. MISS MAC. I sha'n't. DAM. I want to tell you something. MISS MAC. Well, sir, tell it. DAM. I hate you. [_They sit._ MISS MAC. Well, sir, and I hate you. DAM. Then we ought to be married. MISS MAC. What? DAM. I say we ought to be married; because we shall begin at the right end. All the rest of the world begin with love and finish with hating. We will be wiser--begin with hate and perhaps--I say perhaps end with love. I mean what I say--I have a motive for what I am saying. Do you hate me heartily enough to marry me? MISS MAC. I do, sir. DAM. You can't endure me? MISS MAC. I think you a most hateful person. DAM. You, to me, are a perfect Gorgon. MISS MAC. I'm very happy to hear it.