I saw
as much myself. It's her fault. She WILL entice 'em.'
'I wouldn't,' cried Miggs, folding her hands and looking upwards with
a kind of devout blankness, 'I wouldn't lay myself out as she does; I
wouldn't be as bold as her; I wouldn't seem to say to all male creeturs
"Come and kiss me"'--and here a shudder quite convulsed her frame--'for
any earthly crowns as might be offered. Worlds,' Miggs added solemnly,
'should not reduce me. No. Not if I was Wenis.'
'Well, but you ARE Wenus, you know,' said Mr Dennis, confidentially.
'No, I am not, good gentleman,' answered Miggs, shaking her head with an
air of self-denial which seemed to imply that she might be if she chose,
but she hoped she knew better. 'No, I am not, good gentleman. Don't
charge me with it.'
Up to this time she had turned round, every now and then, to where Dolly
and Miss Haredale had retired and uttered a scream, or groan, or laid
her hand upon her heart and trembled excessively, with a view of keeping
up appearances, and giving them to understand that she conversed with
the visitor, under protest and on compulsion, and at a great personal
sacrifice, for their common good. But at this point, Mr Dennis looked
so very full of meaning, and gave such a singularly expressive twitch
to his face as a request to her to come still nearer to him, that
she abandoned these little arts, and gave him her whole and undivided
attention.
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