"With two legs, two arms, and a head, cousin."
"You ... love him?"
"No," she said, serenely. "It's only to wed and settle down some day."
"You don't love him?"
"No," she repeated, a trifle impatiently.
"And you mean to wed him?"
"Listen to the boy!" she exclaimed. "I've told him ten times that I am betrothed, which means a wedding. I am not one of those who break paroles."
"Oh ... you are now free on parole."
"Prisoner on parole," she said, lightly. "I'm to name the day o' punishment, and I promise you it will not be soon."
"Dorothy," I said, "suppose in the mean time you fell in love?"