Rubbish, man! What
have you to keep a wife on? You can't marry her.
VALENTINE. Who wants to marry her? I'll kiss her hands; I'll kneel
at her feet; I'll live for her; I'll die for her; and that'll be enough
for me. Look at her book! See! (He kisses the handkerchief.) If you
offered me all your money for this excuse for going down to the beach
and speaking to her again, I'd only laugh at you. (He rushes buoyantly
off to the steps, where he bounces right into the arms of the waiter,
who is coming up form the beach. The two save themselves from falling
by clutching one another tightly round the waist and whirling one
another around.)
WAITER (delicately). Steady, sir, steady.
VALENTINE (shocked at his own violence). I beg your pardon.
WAITER. Not at all, sir, not at all. Very natural, sir, I'm sure,
sir, at your age. The lady has sent me for her book, sir. Might I take
the liberty of asking you to let her have it at once, sir?
VALENTINE. With pleasure. And if you will allow me to present you
with a professional man's earnings for six weeks--- (offering him
Dolly's crown piece.)
WAITER (as if the sum were beyond his utmost expectations). Thank
you, sir: much obliged. (Valentine dashes down the steps.) Very high-
spirited young gentleman, sir: very manly and straight set up.
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