Out of a languid reverie, she sighed: 'I suppose I must be! My duke--oh, don't talk of him.

Dear man! he's in bed and fast asleep long before this.

I wonder how he came to let me come here.
I did bother him, I know.

Am I very, very beautiful, Chloe, so that men can't help themselves ?' 'Very, madam.' 'There, good-night.

I want to be in bed, and I can't kiss you because you keep calling me madam, and freeze me to icicles; but I do love you, Chloe.' 'I am sure you do.' 'I'm quite certain I do.