Dora. Yourself, Katy, by the blushes on your cheeks and the sparkle in your eyes. You want me to read it for you?
Katy. If yees plase, Miss Dora. (Hands letter.)
Dora (opening letter). I shall learn all your secrets, Katy. Perhaps the young man would not like that.
Katy. Thin yees moight shkip the sacrets.
Dora (laughs). All right, Katy. (Reads.) "Lovely Katy."
Katy. That's me. Sure that's no sacret.
Dora (reads). "I take me pin in hand wid a bating heart, to till yees uv the sthrong wakeniss I have for yees."
Katy. Yees moight shkip that.
Dora (reads). "I have nather ate, dhrunk, nor slipt, for a wake."
Katy. Will, that jist accounts for the wakeniss.