“What manner of lover do you want now?”
“Oh, a grown man—a big strong fellow with a will of his own, who never asks for a kiss, but just takes it.”
“You little minx! what know you of kissing menfolk?”
“Nothing—that is just it—”
“Janet!”
“—for when Billy blushes like a peony, and politely and decorously begs to kiss my cheek, I am in duty bound to look shocked, and blush back, and say no; nothing else would satisfy my dignity, though I could pinch him for it! That is why I call him a baby,” stoutly maintained the girl, her lips curling, and her voice full of mockery.
“He does not wish to forget his manners.”
“To say always ‘if you please’ for tender favours is not the manners for a lover.”
“Since you are so wise, tell me what sort of manners a lover should have.”