Edwin said that he should not.
Two.
“Well, well!” Mrs Hamps commented, and sat down in the wicker-chair of Darius.
“I wonder she doesn’t get married herself,” said Edwin idly, having nothing in particular to remark.
“You’re a nice one to say such a thing!” Mrs Hamps exclaimed.
“Why?”
“Well, you really are!” She raised the structure of her bonnet and curls, and shook it slowly at him. And her gaze had an extraordinary quality of fleshly naughtiness that half pleased and half annoyed him.
“Why?” he repeated.
“Well,” she said again, “you aren’t a ninny, and you aren’t a simpleton. At least I hope not. You must know as well as anybody the name of the young gentleman that she’s waiting for.”