“Nine months! It’s an age; I never kept a plaything for nine months.”
“What do you do then?”
“NO, NO, I CANNOT SELL YOU CRESSIDA.”
“I give them away or I break them. Don’t you get tired of having the same toys always?”
“Cressida is not a common toy to me.”
“Oh, he’s very handsome, no doubt; I thought at first he was a real pony. But with ten napoleons you can buy another,—you can buy a white one, and that would be a change, you know. Come, you’ll alter your mind, won’t you?”
“No, certainly not.”
“Oh, yes.”
“Indeed, I’m sure I shall not.”