“How you run on,” said Rachael.
“Run on—nothing to the hours, days, weeks, months, years, when we’re united—run on—they’ll fly on—bolt—mizzle—steam-engine—thousand-horse power—nothing to it.”
“Can’t—can’t we be married before to-morrow morning?” inquired Rachael.
“Impossible—can’t be—notice at the church—leave the licence to-day—ceremony come off to-morrow.”
“I am so terrified, lest my brother should discover us!” said Rachael.
“Discover—nonsense—too much shaken by the break down—besides—extreme caution—gave up the post-chaise—walked on—took a hackney coach—came to the Borough—last place in the world that he’d look in—ha! ha! capital notion that—very.”
“Don’t be long,” said the spinster, affectionately, as Mr. Jingle stuck the pinched-up hat on his head.
“Long away from you?—Cruel charmer,” and Mr. Jingle skipped playfully up to the spinster aunt, imprinted a chaste kiss upon her lips, and danced out of the room.
“Dear man!” said the spinster as the door closed after him.
“Rum old girl,” said Mr. Jingle, as he walked down the passage.