'We will be perfectly happy till the month ends.

And after it?
But get us rid of Monsieur le Jeune; toss him that trifle; I spare him that.

'Twill be bliss to him, at the cost of a bit of silk thread to us.
Besides, if we keep him to cure him of his passion here, might it not be--these boys veer suddenly, like the winds of Albion, from one fair object to t' other--at the cost of the precious and simple lady you are guarding?
I merely hint.

These two affect one another, as though it could be.

She speaks of him.