Willingly, if it be in my power; but what can I do?
MRS. CHARVILLE.
Give me something to amuse and interest me. I know Freemantle will be in love with you, if you take any pains with him.—Nay, don't look so proud, Lady,—I don't mean disingenuous pains; and then I shall have something to think of—something to talk of.
MARY.
Have you ever been without this last resource?
MRS. CHARVILLE.
O no, Heaven bless me! I can talk of the last foreign mail, or the changing of an old turnpike road, or any thing, rather than hold my tongue.
MARY.
But you are not reduced to this necessity surely, with Sir Level's taste and Mr. Smitchenstault's philosophy at command.
MRS. CHARVILLE.
But I mean something that is worth talking about. Something that one whispers in the ear; something that one watches an opportunity to communicate; something that one speaks of busily in the twilight, in some private alley, with the bats wheeling over one's head; something—O dear, O dear! I can enjoy this now only by sympathy.
