"Oh, you will not."
"Prattle is very engaging, you know," said Mowbray, "and I often feel as if my weary head would be at rest upon your friendly shoulder."
"Why don't you rest it there then?"
Mowbray smiled.
"You may answer that question better than myself," he said: "for some strange reason, you always avoid me when I approach you."
"Avoid you!"
"Yes, Charles."
"Why, my dear follow," said Hoffland, with a free-and-easy air, "come as near as you choose; here, let us lock arms! Does that look like avoiding you?"
Mowbray smiled.
"It is very different here in the street," he said; "but let us dismiss this idle subject. It is an odd way of throwing away time to debate whether you would make a good wife."