‘My dear!’ exclaimed Pluto.
‘He shall never touch me.’
‘Proserpine!’
‘Don’t touch me with that hand. You never shall touch me, if you allow that disgusting animal to lick your hand.’
‘I beg to inform you that there are few beings of any kind for whom I have a greater esteem than that faithful and affectionate beast.’
‘Oh! if you like Cerberus better than me, I have no more to say,’ exclaimed the bride, bridling up with indignation.
‘My Proserpine is perverse,’ replied Pluto; ‘her memory has scarcely done me justice.’
‘I am sure you said you liked Cerberus better than anything in the world,’ continued the goddess, with a voice trembling with passion.
‘I said no such thing,’ replied Pluto, somewhat sternly.
‘I see how it is,’ replied Proserpine, with a sob; ‘you are tired of me.’