I used to say so to myself; dwell on the word; mouth it over and over again; swell over it with a pleasant, pompous complacency, with an admiration dedicated entirely to myself, and unimpaired even by esteem for her; indeed I smiled in deep secrecy at her _navet_ and simplicity in being the first to love, and to show it. That whip of yours seems to have a good heavy handle, Yorke; you can swing it about your head and knock me out of the saddle, if you choose. I should rather relish a loundering whack."
"Tak patience, Robert, till the moon rises and I can see you. Speak plain out--did you love her or not? I could like to know. I feel curious."

Indeed I smiled at her navet and simplicity in showing her love. That whip of yours seems to have a good heavy handle, Yorke; swing it about your head and knock me out of the saddle, if you please."
"Patience, Robert, till the moon rises and I can see you. Did you love her or not?"
