The things we do!

"Last year she talked to me because she wanted to know
about you. This year she doesn't talk: because I suppose she doesn't want
to know about you any more."
"Hang it. Do--on't, Pen," cries Clive, as a schoolboy cries out to
another not to hit him.
"She does not pretend to observe: and is in full conversation with the
amiable Bustington. Delicious interchange of noble thoughts! But she is
observing us talking, and knows that we are talking about her. If ever
you marry her, Clive, which is absurd, I shall lose you for a friend. You
will infallibly tell her what I think of her: and she will order you to
give me up." Clive had gone off in a brown study, as his interlocutor
continued. "Yes, she is a flirt. She can't help her nature. She tries to
vanquish every one who comes near her. She is a little out of breath from
waltzing, and so she pretends to be listening to poor Bustington, who is
out of breath too, but puffs out his best in order to make himself
agreeable, with what a pretty air she appears to listen! Her eyes
actually seem to brighten.


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