What an ass I used to be, Tweeny.
TWEENY (tolerantly). Oh, let bygones be bygones.
ERNEST (sincerely, and at his very best). I'm no great shakes even
now. But listen to this, Tweeny; I have known many women, but until
I knew you I never knew any woman.
TWEENY (to whose uneducated ears this sounds dangerously like an
epigram). Take care--the bucket.
ERNEST (hurriedly). I didn't mean it in that way. (He goes
chivalrously on his knees.) Ah, Tweeny, I don't undervalue the
bucket, but what I want to say now is that the sweet refinement of a
dear girl has done more for me than any bucket could do.
TWEENY (with large eyes). Are you offering to walk out with me,
Erny?
ERNEST (passionately). More than that. I want to build a little
house for you--in the sunny glade down by Porcupine Creek. I want to
make chairs for you and tables; and knives and forks, and a
sideboard for you.
TWEENY (who is fond of language). I like to hear you. (Eyeing him.)
Would there be any one in the house except myself, Ernest?
ERNEST (humbly).
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