When he came to, there was a bright light in Aladdin’s eyes, for a lantern swung just to the left of his head.
“I thought you were dead,” said the girl, still from her point of advantage. The lantern’s light was in her face, too, and Aladdin saw that it was beautiful.
“Won’t you help me?” he said plaintively.
“Were you ever told that you had nice eyes?” said the girl.
Aladdin groaned.
“It bores you to be told that?”
“My dear young lady,” said Aladdin, “if you were as kind as you are beautiful—”
“How about your horse kicking me to a certain place? That was what you started to say, you know.”
“Lady—lady,” said Aladdin, “if you only knew how I’m suffering, and I’m just an ordinary young man with a sweetheart at home, and I don’t want to die in this hole. And now that I look at you,” he said, “I see that you’re not so much a girl as an armful of roses.”
“Are you by any chance—Irish?” said the girl, with a laugh.