“I don’t see it,” responded he of the Rufusian locks.
“Such dear legs!”
“Dear legs—duck legs you mean, miss!”
“And such a voice!”
“Voice! I’ll holler with him for all he’s worth.”
“Ha’ done, do!”
“I shan’t: Fitzflam’s—an—umbug!”
“Sir!” exclaimed Hannibal Fitzflummery Fitz of “that ilk.”
“And Sir to you!” retorted “the child of earth with the golden hair.”
“I suppose I’m a right to speak my mind of that or any other chap I pays to laugh at!”