Dear Marwood,
shall I be free with you again, and beg you to entertain em? I'll
make all imaginable haste. Dear friend, excuse me.
SCENE X.
MRS. MARWOOD, MRS. MILLAMANT, MINCING.
MILLA. Sure, never anything was so unbred as that odious man.
Marwood, your servant.
MRS. MAR. You have a colour; what's the matter?
MILLA. That horrid fellow Petulant has provoked me into a flame--I
have broke my fan--Mincing, lend me yours.--Is not all the powder
out of my hair?
MRS. MAR. No. What has he done?
MILLA. Nay, he has done nothing; he has only talked. Nay, he has
said nothing neither; but he has contradicted everything that has
been said. For my part, I thought Witwoud and he would have
quarrelled.
MINC. I vow, mem, I thought once they would have fit.
MILLA. Well, 'tis a lamentable thing, I swear, that one has not the
liberty of choosing one's acquaintance as one does one's clothes.
MRS. MAR. If we had that liberty, we should be as weary of one set
of acquaintance, though never so good, as we are of one suit, though
never so fine.
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