Page:The worsted man; a musical play for amateurs, by John Kendrick Bangs.djvu/81

 The Worsted Man in her ear.) I was just talking about you. Babette. Me? Doll. Yes, you. I was just remark ing what beautiful blue eyes you had ; what a lovely smile, and how dear and sweet you seemed to be. Your wealth of golden hair that shimmers in the sun Babette. Oh, Mr. Woolley. (Aside.) He s not so bad, after all, even if he hasn t any heart. (Aloud.) To whom were you saying all these lovely things about me? Doll. To myself. To whom else (seiz ing her by the hand) should I con fide the secrets of this, my heart? (Holds it out to her.) Such words are too sacred (getting on his knees) for any ears but mine and yours. Babette, from the first moment I peeped through these shoe-button holes and your love liness dawned upon my inner excelsior, 61