“Oh, indeed, you flatter me.”
“Do I? I think not. I did not mean to do so, but—”
“Yes, exactly, I understand. Pay your respects to me and all out of pure disinterested friendship.”
“That’s just it.”
“So I thought; but you have some dust on your coat,” said she, patting him on the shoulder under the pretext of dusting it.
This made her lover blush from the nape of the neck to the tip of his long, ungainly nose.
It also emboldened him to seize her hand and to cry—
“Oh, Miss Jamblin, you are so good and kind, so beautiful, and you make me feel so happy.”
“Do I?”
“Oh, yes, indeed you do. Will you consent to make me happier still?”