"Never think it, Moll!" said Diana, shaking her head. "As for men, I hates 'em and always shall—"
"What d'ye say t' that, my fine, nice laddie—eh, eh?" piped the old, witch-like creature, leering at me hideously. "Ann's a beauty, ain't she? Made to be kissed an' all, ain't she, eh? If I was you, I'd kiss 'er afore ye reached the next milestone an' that ain't fur—kiss 'er afore she knowed, I would, an' if she takes it unkind, never trouble, jest you wait till she's asleep—steal 'er little knife an'—"
"Let us go!" said I hastily, getting to my feet.
"That's th' sperrit, laddie, that's th' sperrit!" croaked the old woman. "Afore th' next milestone—on th' lips! All maids love it an' so'll she, 'spite all 'er skittish ways—on 'er mouth, mind!"
But I hasted away, nor paused until I was some distance down the road, then glancing back, I saw Diana bestow on this frightful old creature all that remained of our dinner, and money besides.
"A truly dreadful old person, Diana!" said I, as she joined me. "I wonder you can stop to consort or speak with such—"
"She's a woman, after all, Peregrine, very old and worn and generally hungry. And how can it harm me to be a little kind to her?"
"She suggests vile things!"
"What o' that, if she don't do 'em, or make others do 'em?"
"A horrible creature!" I repeated.