"Oh Lud, was I made to be careful?"
He gripped her hand, and, after a moment, "Take off your hood," he muttered.
"Is that all?" She laughed, and let it fall from hair and neck, and looked as though sunlight had flashed out at her. "Honest gentleman, you are lightly satisfied."
"So are not you, I vow."
She was pleased to answer that with a scrap of a song:
"Jog on, jog on the footpath way,
And merrily hent the stile-a!
A merry heart goes all the way,
A sad one tires in a mile-a."
"Faith, yours is a mighty sad one, Harry. Pray, what are you the better for stripping me of this?" She flirted the hood.
"I can see those wicked colours of yours. Lord, what a fool is a man to go mad for a show of pink and white!"
"And is that all I am?"
Harry shrugged. "Item—a pair of eyes that look sideways; item—a woman's body with arms and sufficient legs."