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No, you know well enough it is Sir John I mean.

Ha! talking of me too. Well, if people will converse with their doors open, there is no help for it.

How should I know who your Ladyship means by an agreeable man?

You may know at least who I do not mean; for that poor frivolous fine gentleman can be agreeable to nobody.

Old hag! her face is as senseless and as coarse as a red-topped January turnip.

Sir John is a man that any woman might like. He is a man of fortune.

So is our neighbour, Squire Numbscull.

Fye, child! Sir John is a well-made man, and—