"He would have killed him, my lord."
"Oh, the devil he would! Why?"
"Because he loves me, my lord."
"H'm. Well, Miss Bellaroba, where's your hand?"
She held it out. "Here, sir."
"What a little one! Well, put it on your heart. Now, how does it feel?"
"It jumps, my lord."
"Does it burn you, child?"
"No, my lord; it's quite cold."