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Porter, Jane, 1776-1850

"Thaddeus of Warsaw"

I am sure, if he had taken as long a time in answering your
call as he does mine, the ruffian might have killed and eaten you too
before he moved to your assistance. Come, may I not say they are
anything but well-bred men?"
"Certainly. A fair lady may say anything."
"Positively, Mr. Constantine, I won't endure contempt! Say such
another word, and I will call you as abominable a creature as the
worst of them."
"But I am not a proper judge, Miss Egerton. I have never been in
company with any of these men; so, to be impartial, I must suspend my
opinion."
"And not believe my word!"
Thaddeus smiled and bowed.
"There, Lady Tinemouth," cried she, affecting pet, "take your
champion to yourself; he is no _preux chevalier_ for me?"
"Thank you, Sophia," returned her ladyship, giving her hand to the
count to lead her to the supper-room. "This is the way she skirmishes
with all your sex, until her shrewd humor transforms them to its own
likeness."
"And where is the man," observed Thaddeus, "who would not be so
metamorphosed under the spells of such a Circe?"
"It won't do, Mr. Constantine," cried she, taking her place opposite
to him: "my anger is not to be appeased by calling me names; you
don't mend the compliment by likening me to a heathen and a witch."
Lady Tinemouth bore her part in the conversation in a strain more in
unison with the count's mind.


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