"'KISS ME! BEFORE I FAINT!'"
"The beggar's name? Can it be that Sir Tristram Triggs is the new Lord Chancellor?" She threw out her arms, with a gesture of burlesque melodrama. "Tommy! Kiss me! Quick. Before I faint!"
"I never saw a chap like you for kissing."
"That's a pretty thing to say! Although we may be married, sir, we have not yet been upon our honeymoon."
"I'll kiss you, if you like."
"Thank you kindly, gentle sir!" She favoured him with a sweeping curtsey. "Tommy, even you have no idea of the ramifications and complications of our peculiar situation." Mr. Stanham had removed his hands from his pockets. They occupied a more agreeable position round the lady's waist. "See if I don't snatch you from the lion's jaws."
"Does that mean that you will help me to escape from Holloway?"
"It means that you will never get as far as Holloway?"
"Am I to die upon the road then?"
"Don't talk like that, don't! You don't know what a wife you've got! You don't know how she loves you, worthless creature that you are! Tommy, do say that you love me, just a little bit! There, you needn't squeeze me quite so tight. I can't explain to you all about it. I will some day! There's going to be a duel, perhaps to the death! between the Lord Chancellor and yours to command; and if that august personage, in the figure anyhow, of Sir Tristram Triggs, is not worsted and overthrown, I will give you leave, sir, to say that you do not admire my taste in dress.—Tommy, don't."