The ring's yours, and you're mine. Probably the latter, for the thronging ballroom was insufferably hot. ‘Idiot!’ ‘Enough, now! Softly, you little termagant,’ he ordered, seizing her wrists to hold her off. His face turned a dark crimson. ” He strode away and vanished in the gathering fog. All these circumstances,—slight in themselves, but powerful in their effect,—touched the heart of the widowed carpenter, and added to his depression. "I didn't imagine for a moment that you'd accept it, but I thought it right to make you the offer. We have seen pitted cheeks, which we would not exchange for dimples and a satin skin. ‘And I’ll say it as often as I choose, you confounded impertinent wench! Who do you think you’re talking to? I’m your grandfather, girl.
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