At the first, we had a great deal to say, and thought ourselves
pretty witty; and I was at a little pains to be the beau, and she
(I believe) to play the young lady of experience. But soon we grew
plainer with each other. I laid aside my high, clipped English
(what little there was left of it) and forgot to make my Edinburgh
bows and scrapes; she, upon her side, fell into a sort of kind
familiarity; and we dwelt together like those of the same
household, only (upon my side) with a more deep emotion. About the
same time the bottom seemed to fall out of our conversation, and
neither one of us the less pleased. Whiles she would tell me old
wives' tales, of which she had a wonderful variety, many of them
from my friend red-headed Niel. She told them very pretty, and
they were pretty enough childish tales; but the pleasure to myself
was in the sound of her voice, and the thought that she was telling
and I listening. Whiles, again, we would sit entirely silent, not
communicating even with a look, and tasting pleasure enough in the
sweetness of that neighbourhood.
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