You seem to know more about me|than my own mother.
Now, what can I do for you? How did it happen? Doesn't she look pretty? Poor Elizabeth.
The lavender hankie|is so becoming.
My beaded bag.
And my feather boa.
It was an accident.
A very fatal accident.
|Poor Miss Elizabeth.
What are you going to do now,|Mr.
O'Finn? Excuse me, ladies.
