"Yer was, yer own self."
"I didn't—so dar! Guess somethin' ails yer head too, de way yer go on—pushin' indeed."
"I scorns yer insinivations," said Clorinda, "and despises yer actuations!"
"Jis' don't go pitchin' into me and callin' me names," retorted Vic; "'cause I won't stand it."
"Ladies, ladies!" interposed Dolf. "Don't resturb de harmonium of our walk by any onpleasant words."
"I ain't a sayin' nothin'," said Vic.
"Yer've said more'n I," returned Clo, "and I ain't gwine to be pushed inter de ditch by nobody—thar!"
Clorinda was naturally more irritated than Vic, because Dolf had made no effort to seize upon her hand, which trembled to give him a pardoning clasp.
"Nobody wants ter push yer," said Vic.
"I don' know 'bout dat," said Clo, solemnly; "I b'lieve if I was murdered in my bed I shud know whar ter look for de murderer."