Katisha. (whimpering) Did he really die of love?

Ko-Ko. He really did.

Katisha. All on account of a cruel little hen?

Ko-Ko. Yes.

Katisha. Poor little chap!

Ko-Ko. It's an affecting tale, and quite true. I knew the bird intimately.

Katisha. Did you? He must have been very fond of her.

Ko-Ko. His devotion was something extraordinary.

Katisha. (still whimpering). Poor little chap! And — and if I refuse you, will you go and do the same?

Ko-Ko. At once.

Katisha. No, no — you mustn't! Anything but that! (Falls on his breast.) Oh, I'm a silly little goose!

Ko-Ko. (making a wry face) You are!

Katisha. And you won't hate me because I'm just a little teeny weeny wee bit bloodthirsty, will you?

Ko-Ko. Hate you? Oh, Katisha! is there not beauty even in bloodthirstiness?

Katisha. My idea exactly.