"What chance?"
"That—your kindness do me—no damage?"
"What senseless talk is this you utter?"
She shook her head slowly, then:
"What a strange boy! I do not fear you."
"Fear me?" I repeated, flushing hotly. "What is there to fear? I am neither yokel nor beast."
"They say a gentleman should be more dreaded."
I stared at her, then laughed:
"Ask yourself how far you need have dread of me—when, if you desire it, you can leave me dumb, dismayed, lip-bound by your mocking tongue—which God knows well I fear."
"Is my tongue so bitter then? I did not know it."