"If love no more than rend my petticoat I ought to be content," she said coolly.
Silenced by her effrontery, which truly passed all bounds, I merely glared at her, and presently she laughed outright.
"Broad-brim," said she, "I was not born yesterday. Have no worries concerning me, but look to yourself, for I think you have been sorely hit at last. And God knows such wounds go hard with a truly worthy and good young man."
"I make nothing of your nonsense," said I coldly.
"What? Nothing? And yonder sits its pretty and romantic inspiration? I am glad I have lived to see the maid who dealt you your first wound!"
"Do you fancy that I am in love?" said I defiantly.
"Why not admit what your lop-ears and moony mien yell aloud to the world entire?"
"Have you no common sense, Lana? Do you imagine a man can fall in love in a brief week?"
"I have been wondering," said she coolly, "whether you have ever before seen her."
"Continue to wonder," said I bluntly.