“Why not? Sure I’m able for it!”
“Ay,” she answered, in her wisdom yielding this; “but, Dannie, child, ’tisn’t ’lowed.”
“Why not?”
Her eyes turned round with religious awe. “God,” said she, with a solemn wag, “wouldn’t like it.”
“I’d never stop for that.”
“May be,” she chided; “but I ’low, lad, we ought t’ ’blige Un once in a while. ’Tis no more than kind. An’ what’s a kiss t’ lack? Pooh!”
I was huffed.
“Ah, well, then!” said she, “an your heart’s set on it, Dannie, I’ve no mind t’ stop you. But––”
I moved forward, abashed, but determined.
“But,” she continued, with an emphasis that brought me to a stop, “I ’low I better ask God, t’ make sure.”