GILBERT: For?
MARGARET: Guesa.
GILBERT: For a juckey?
MARGARET: Stupid!
GILBERT: For a Count, a Prince?
MARGARET: No, a Duke.
GILBERT: (Bowing) You really did'nt spare any trouble.
MARGARET: A Duke, who, of his own free will leaves his
Castle, marries her and they go together to the Canary
Islands.
GILBERT: Canary Ilands are fine. And then?
MARGARET: With the landing at -
GILBERT: The Canary...
MARGARET:... the novel ends.
GILBERT: I am terribly excited, especially about the
disguise.
MARGARET: Even you would not recognize me if it were
not...
GILBERT: Well, if...
MARGARET: If the thirteenth chapter did'nt contain our
entire correspondence; yes, all the letters which I wrote to
you and which you wrote to me are in the book.
GILBERT: But pardon me, where did you get those written
to me; I have those.
MARGARET: Yes, but I always oopied them before sending them
to you.