“Do you know what you are saying, Wynnette?” anxiously repeated Le.
“Yes, indeed I do. And I know it is true. Odalite hates and scorns and loathes Col. Anglesea!” said the child, speaking in her intense way, with doubled fist, set teeth and gleaming eyes.
“Did she tell you so?”
“Why should she tell me? No; she never did. But all the same I would pledge my immortal soul upon it that she does.”
“Why do you think so, then?”
“Why? Now, Le, where are your eyes and your common sense? I tell you disgust and abhorrence take possession of Odalite the minute he approaches her, and stick out all over her like the spikes on a hedgehog. Bah! bah! Tchut! Tchis!” hissed the intense little creature.
“My Lord, if I thought so!”
“You had better think so. I tell you I believe if she is made to marry that beat—I mean that person—something awful will happen.”
“‘Made’ to marry, my dear Wynnette! Why, she wants to do so.”
“She don’t! she don’t! she don’t!”