He used to call her so, to tease her, in the happy days gone by; and she loved to be teased by him, her pet and idol.
“Dear Aunt Eudoxia, tell me truly, do you think—I can hardly ask you”.
“Think what, Cradock? My poor Cradock; oh, donʼt be like that”!
“Not that I did—I donʼt mean that—but that it was possible for me to have done it on purpose”?
“Done what on purpose, Cradock”?
“Why, of course, that horrible, horrible thing”.
“On purpose, Cradock! My poor innocent! Only let me hear any one dream of it, and if I donʼt come down upon them”.
An undignified sentence, that of Aunt Doxyʼs, as well as a most absurd one. How long has she been in the habit of hearing people dream?
“Some one not only dreams it, some one actually believes that I did it so”.
“The low wretch—the despicable—who”?