"Wot," growled one, pausing, the better to spit in passionate disgust,
"put the 'orses to the phaeton, must I? And at this time o' night--an'
all for a couple o' light country Molls as is afeard to foot it 'ome
in the dark, curse 'em!"
"She ain't no country Moll, Ben, leastways not 'er as I see--a reg'lar
'igh-stepper--all the lady, Ben--such eyes, ecod--such a shape to 'er,
Ben--"
"Well, dang 'er shape, I says! Why can't she go as she come?"
"Summat in the wood give 'er a turn, scared 'er like, an' back she run
to the Guv'nor an' orders 'im to 'ave the phaeton round, which the
Guv'nor does; an' there's 'im an' t' others a-toastin' of 'er this
'ere werry minute. Oh, she's a lady, Ben, an' mighty 'igh an' 'aughty,
by 'er looks."
"'Aughty!" sneered Ben, spitting again. "Lady! We know th' kind o'
ladies as comes a visitin' th' Guv'nor or the Captain 'ere a-nights--"
"Shut your trap, Ben, an' get to your 'osses, lady or no."
"Lady--ha, fine doin's--fine doin's! Shameless 'ussies--"
"Close up, Ben, close up--mum's the word hereabouts! The Guv'nor's got
a quick eye for a fine young woman--ah, an' so's you an' me, for that
matter! An' I tell ye, this 'un's a fine lady, even if a bit
frolicsome. So git to your 'osses, Ben--an' sharp's the word."
The man Ben sniffed and, muttering evilly, slouched away, leaving his
fellow to sigh gustily and stare up at the moon; a square-shouldered,
bullet-headed man who, leering up at Diana's chaste loveliness, began
to scrape and pick at his teeth with a thumb nail.
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