“Do you love me?” said my friend Annabel Lee, with her cigarette.
“Oh, yes,” said I.
“Look at me again—am I evil?” said my friend Annabel Lee.
“I presume you are,” I replied, for then she looked vindictive and vicious.
“And do you hate me?”
“No,” said I.
“Then you are very bad and wicked yourself, you poor, miserable, little rat,” said my friend Annabel Lee, with her cigarette, “and the world and all good people will condemn you.”
“I fear,” said I, with my cigarette, “that the world and all good people already do that.”
“Ah, do they!” said my friend Annabel Lee. “Never mind—I will take care of you, you poor, miserable, little rat; I will make all soft for you; I will keep out the cold; I will color the dullness; I will fight off the mob.”
“And I,” I replied, “if for that reason you do so, will thank the world and all good people for condemning me.”