Mr Meadows made not any other return to her harangue, but stretching himself with a languid smile, and yawning: Mr Gosport, therefore, seizing the moment of cessation, said, “Miss Larolles, I hear a strange report about you.”
“Do you?” returned she, with quickness, “pray what is it? something monstrous impertinent, I dare say,—-however, I assure you it i'n't true.”
“Your assurance,” cried he, “carries conviction indisputable, for the report was that you had left off talking.”
“O, was that all?” cried she, disappointed, “I thought it had been something about Mr Sawyer, for I declare I have been plagued so about him, I am quite sick of his name.”
“And for my part, I never heard it! so fear nothing from me upon his account.”
“Lord, Mr Gosport, how can you say so? I am sure you must know about the Festino that night, for it was all over the town in a moment.”
“What festino?”
“Well, only conceive, how provoking!—why, I know nothing else was talked of for a month!”
“You are most formidably stout this morning! it is not two minutes since I saw you fling the gauntlet at Miss Beverley, and yet you are already prepared for another antagonist.”
“O as to Miss Beverley, I must really beg you not to mention her; she has behaved so impertinently, that I don't intend ever to speak to her again.”