You may believe it."
"I don't wish to believe it. Let us forget it. Do, Reggie!"
"No; let's have it out. You know what I mean. I mean I want you to marry
me, dear."
"Nonsense!"
"I can tell you there's no nonsense about it. It's downright, deadly
earnest. And I'll tell you another thing, Deleah, since you have dragged
in Bessie: that you've no need to be jealous of her--"
"Jealous! Really, Reggie! Oh, what a conceited young man!"
"Hold on. I'll come to that presently. I'm telling you that even when I
seemed sweet on Bessie, years ago, I used to think about you. I used to
think you were the prettiest little girl I'd ever set eyes on. And so you
were; I used to think what a beauty you'd be; and you are. There's no one
among the girls I've seen to touch you. You top the lot. You needn't
laugh, dear. I mean it."
"But if you do--I'm much obliged to you--but it makes no difference,
Reggie."
"And as to my being conceited--you're always hinting I'm conceited--I'm no
more so than any young man would be in my place, with a lot of girls
trying to catch him--Ah, there you go! Don't jump on me, Deleah. You know
what I mean. Lots of girls are looking out to get married, and I've got
money, and I've got a name--"
"On the Brewers' carts.
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