"And if you can dance a threesome reel, what good does it do ye?"
asked Susan, looking askance at Michael, who had just been vaunting
his proficiency. "Does it help you plough, reap, or even climb the
rocks to take a raven's nest? If I were a man, I'd be ashamed to
give in to such softness."
"If you were a man, you'd be glad to do anything which made the
pretty girls stand round and admire."
"As they do to you, eh! Ho, Michael, that would not be my way o'
being a man!"
"What would then?" asked he, after a pause, during which he had
expected in vain that she would go on with her sentence. No answer.
"I should not like you as a man, Susy; you'd be too hard and
headstrong."
"Am I hard and headstrong?" asked she, with as indifferent a tone as
she could assume, but which yet had a touch of pique in it. His
quick ear detected the inflexion.
"No, Susy! You're wilful at times, and that's right enough. I don't
like a girl without spirit. There's a mighty pretty girl comes to
the dancing class; but she is all milk and water. Her eyes never
flash like yours when you're put out; why, I can see them flame
across the kitchen like a cat's in the dark. Now, if you were a man,
I should feel queer before those looks of yours; as it is, I rather
like them, because--"
"Because what?" asked she, looking up and perceiving that he had
stolen close up to her.
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