"Be near her, nephew!"
"Eh? O! Begad!" saying which Viscount Merivale took out a highly ornate gold snuff-box, looked at it, tapped it and put it away again. "Nunky," he murmured, "since you're so curst wide-awake I'm free to confess that for the last six months I've worshipped at the shrine of the Admirable Betty—de-votedly, sir!"
"There be others also, I think!" said the Major, handing his foil to the Sergeant.
"Gad love me, sir, 'tis true enough! The whole town is run mad for her pasitively, and 'tis small wonder! She's a blooming peach, nunky, a pearl of price—let me perish! A goddess, a veritable——"
"Woman!" said the Major.
"And, sir, this glory of her sex blooms and blossoms—next door. Ha' ye seen her yet?"
"Once or twice, Tom."
"Now I protest, sir—ain't she the most glorious creature—a peerless piece—a paragon? By heaven, 'tis the sweetest, perversest witch and so do my hopes soar."
"Doth she prove so kind, nephew?"
"O sir, she doth flout me consistently."