"Going where?" asked Marion, not overpleased at his advances.
"Deown—deown to Boston;" jerking his thumb over his shoulder, as if that city was situated in the room directly behind him.
"No, sir."
"No? 'spectin' someun p'raps."
Marion made no reply.
"S'pose you're one o' them gals up t'the schule?"
Marion still observed a dignified silence.
"Spectin' one o' the gals?" queried the man, who, being a true Yankee, was not at all abashed by the coldness with which his questions, or rather comments, were received.
"No, sir," replied Marion.
"You ben't?—not one o' the gals; you're marm, p'raps?"