Carried away by her narration and putting her hands upon his shoulders familiarly. Yes, and all the schooling I’ve ever had, Eddie, was at a cheap, frowsy day-school in Kennington, with a tribe of other common, skinny-legged brats. Imagine it!
Farncombe.
Taking her hands. I can’t imagine it; I defy anybody to.
Lily.
Unthinkingly allowing him to retain her hands. Everything I’ve learned since—except my music, and that I owe to Tedder and Vincent—everything I’ve learned since, I’ve learned by sheer cuteness, from novels, the papers, the theatres, and by keeping my ears open like a cunning little parrot. Softly. Ha, ha! That’s what I am—a cunning little parrot!
Farncombe.
Laughing with her. Ha, ha!
Lily.
Tossing her head. Ho, I dare say, if I had the opportunity, I could imitate the fine lydies you mix with, so that in less than six months you’d hardly know the difference between them and me!
Farncombe.