enson.—(A pause, Dickensonexpecting what he is further to say.) Hast thou ever been frolicsome in thy youth?
DICKENSON.
Sir!
CHARVILLE.
I don't mean in any bad way, Dickenson. Don't look so surprised, man: yet I think thou wilt be somewhat surprised when I tell thee what has come into my head.
DICKENSON.
It is not for me to judge of your honour's notions.
CHARVILLE.
Thou wilt hardly guess what I am going to say.
DICKENSON.
No, Sir, but something for your own good, I doubt not.
CHARVILLE.
Nay, don't look so grave; I am only going to try a little frolic.
DICKENSON.
That is what I should never have guessed, I confess.
CHARVILLE.
O! only a mere whim; every body has their whims: it is a whim in your mistress, now, to have that door opened.
