“O! I’m not made of gold, I can assure you.”
“Aren’t you, now? I’ve heard of some that are said to be.”
“I’m made just like anybody else.”
“There, now! What a disappointment! And you call yourself a lord!”
“Why, how would you have me?”
“I wouldn’t have you at all. What a question from a married man!”
He was a little vexed; he made that sound of impatience between tongue and palate which cannot be rendered in spelling.
“I see you’re a literal soul,” said he. “I must be careful how I put things.”
“You’d better,” she said. “Now I come to look at you, you’ve got a sinful eye.”
“And now I come to look at you, I don’t wonder at it.”