He loved Ann Veronica, he said; he was so mad to have her that he defeated himself, and did crude and alarming and senseless things. “You are very kind to think of it,” she said, “but—don’t you think perhaps—that I had better not?” He smiled indulgently. Don't be afraid. They had chosen to deliberately and wickedly insult a lady who had done her best to entertain them for many weeks. ‘Playing games to tease me, that’s all he can think of doing. Perhaps I deceived you about it. Blueskin goes with me. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior.
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