“Oh, don't do that,” said she; “or I'm bound to give you a good kick. I hate she men.”
“Give me a moment,” said he, “and I will be a man again.”
He sat with his face in his hands, gulping a little.
“Come,” said she, cocking her head like a keen jackdaw; “now let us have the real object of your visit.”
“No, no,” said he, inadvertently—“another time will do for that. I am content with your forgiveness. Now I can wait.”
“What for?”
“Can you ask? Do you consider this a happy state of things?”
“Certainly not. But it can't be helped: and we have to thank you for it.”
“It could be helped in time. If you would persuade her to take the first step.”
“What step?”