So
I and my friend we will walk home again, and you go see Maggie Hawkes.
Good-a-by, Dud--good-a-by.'
'Quiet, you fool!--can't ye?' said the young gentleman, with the sort of
grin that made his face vicious when a horse vexed him. 'Who ever said I
wouldn't go look at the girl? Why, you know that's just what I come here
for--don't you? Only when I think a bit, and a notion comes across me, why
shouldn't I speak out? I'm not one o' them shilly-shallies. If I like the
girl, I'll not be mug in and mug out about it. Only mind ye, I'll judge for
myself. Is that her a-coming?'
'No; it was a distant sound.'
Madame peeped round the corner. No one was approaching.
'Well, you go round that a-way, and you only look at her, you know, for she
is such fool--so nairvous.'
'Oh, is that the way with her?' said Dud, knocking out the ashes of his
pipe on a tombstone, and replacing the Turkish utensil in his pocket.
'Well, then, old lass, good-bye,' and he shook her hand. 'And, do ye see,
don't ye come up till I pass, for I'm no hand at play-acting; an' if you
called me "sir," or was coming it dignified and distant, you know, I'd be
sure to laugh, a'most, and let all out.
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