'Ayn't I, though? Ayn't I as low about leaving her as ever I was in my
life; and so is the poor cretur. She won't eat a bit of victuals till
I come back, I'll be sworn; not a bit, I'll be bound to say that; and
myself, although I am an old soldier and served my king and country for
five-and-twenty years, and so got knocked about, and used to anything,
as it were, I don't know how it is, but I always feel queer whenever I
am away from her. I shan't make a hearty meal till I see her. Somehow or
other, when I am away from her, everything feels dry in the throat.'
'You are very fond of her, I see,' said the Duke.
'And ought I not to be? Didn't I ask her three times before she said
_yes_? Those are the wives for wear, sir. None of the fruit that falls
at a shaking for me! Hasn't she stuck by me in every climate, and
in every land I was in? Not a fellow in the company had such a wife.
Wouldn't I throw myself off this coach this moment, to give her a
moment's peace? That I would, though; d----me if I wouldn't.'
'Hush! hush!' said the widow; 'never swear. I am afraid you talk too
much of your love,' she added, with a faint smile.
Pages:
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497