- Charles? - Ernestina. - She's gone into him. - Doesn't she look a princess? - Ernestina, it cannot have escaped your notice that it is fully six weeks...since I came down here to Lyme from London. - No, it has not escaped my notice. - I came to Lyme to explore the flint beds of the Undercliff to look for fossils...but I have stayed for you. - Ah. - For your sweet company. - Thank you. - She's not going to turn him down? - Never. She'd give her left arm. - I came to inquire whether you would allow me to ask your father for your hand. - Yes, I would allow it. - Mind you, I don't know that he approves of me. I don't do what he considers to be work. - Are you suggesting that it is entirely Papa's decision? - No. It is yours. - Yes, it is.Papa will do what I want. And I will do what I want. - Well, in that case, might you take pity...on a crusty old scientist, who holds you very dear...and marry me? - Oh, Charles! I've waited so long for this moment! - He's home and dry. - This isn't mistletoe, but it will do, will it not? - Oh, Charles.