Work Text:
Captain A-, Clorinda says tranquilly, is by way of being an antient favourite--
The captain colours up very hot, snatching his shirt together. Madame.
La, my dear, 'tis no brand of shame.
Mr. MacD-, he says coldly, is quite able to jump to conclusions, without you give him a running start.
O, you are acquainted already, I find.
Mr MacD- scowls. The captain has the advantage of me.
The dour Calvinistickal glare is met with the thinnest of inquisitor's smiles. Clorinda takes a moment to admire the effect — sure she must put the like into one of her tales — and then stands. No, Captain, pray do not stir or I daresay your wound will open again. Sandy, my dear, you may as well sit down and be comfortable.