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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Love Me Little, Love Me Long"

Then, becoming suddenly just to the brute creation, she
said: "No, it is only your abominable sex that would behave so
perversely, so ungratefully."
"Don't understand," drawled Kenealy, "I thought you would laike it."
"Well, you see, I don't laike it."
"You seemed to be getting rather spooney on me."
"Spooney! what is that? one of your mess-room terms, I suppose."
"Yaas; so I thought you waunted me to pawp."
"Captain Kenealy, this subterfuge is unworthy of you. You know
perfectly well why I distinguished you. Others pestered me with their
attachments and nonsense, and you spared me that annoyance. In return,
I did all in my power to show you the grateful friendship I thought
you worthy of. But you have broken faith; you have violated the clear,
though tacit understanding that subsisted between us, and I am very
angry with you. I have some little influence left with my aunt, sir,
and, unless I am much mistaken, you will shortly rejoin the army,
sir."
"What a boa! what a dem'd boa!"
"And don't swear; that is another foolish custom you gentlemen have;
it is almost as foolish as the other. Yes, I'll tell my aunt of you,
and then you will see."
"What a boa! How horrid spaiteful you are."
"Well, I am rather vindictive. But my aunt is ten times worse, as her
deserter shall find, unless--"
"Unless whawt?"
"Unless you beg my pardon directly." And at this part of the
conversation Lucy was fain to turn her head away, for she found it
getting difficult to maintain that severe countenance which she
thought necessary to clothe her words with terror, and subjugate the
gallant captain.


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