I have a mind for the lecture, though. (Checking himself and returning.) No, no; we will go to our visit: she may possibly be there; she is probably there; she is certainly there: the brightness of the sunshine, the playful fanning of the wind, the quick beating of my heart tells me so. Uncle, are you going? You are in a deep reverie, methinks.
CRAFTON (aside, without attending to him).
His suspicions, her thoughtlessness,—the idea fastens itself upon me strangely.
FREEMANTLE.
Ha! speaking to yourself, Sir! What is it that fastens upon you?
CRAFTON.
A thought for your good too.
SIR ROBERT.
Pray let me have it then, for very few such thoughts have any immediate communication with my own brain.
