Look at that great, honey-coloured moon that hangs in the dusky air.

She is waiting for you to charm her, and if you play she will come closer to the earth.

You won't?
Let us go to the club, then.

It has been a charming evening, and we must end it charmingly.

There is some one at White's who wants immensely to know you--young Lord Poole, Bournemouth's eldest son.