Here Jack made an awful pause, and looked at me in deep solemnity.
I said nothing, but puffed away in my usual thoughtful manner.
"The moment that I said that," continued Jack, "she turned and gave me the strangest look. 'Forgiven you,' said she; 'after all that has passed, can you say that?'
"'Well,' I said, 'you don't seem altogether what you used to be—'
"'I!' she exclaimed. 'I not what I used to be?—and you can look me in the face and say that.'
"And now, Macrorie, listen to what an ass can do.
"You see, her language, her tone, and her look, all piqued me. But at the same time I didn't know what to say. I didn't love her—confound her!—and I knew that I didn't—but I wanted to assert myself, or some ether damned thing or other—so what did I do but take her hand."
I puffed on.
"She leaned back in her chair. 'Ah, Jack,' she sighed, 'I don't believe you care any thing for poor me.'"
Jack paused for a while, and sat looking at the floor.