Carbuncle--which had not been taken at all in good part by
Lucinda. On those days Lucinda kept as much as she could out of Sir
Griffin's way, and almost snapped at the baronet when he spoke to her. Sir
Griffin swore to himself that he wasn't going to be treated that way. He'd
have her, by George! There are men in whose love a good deal of hatred is
mixed--who love as the huntsman loves the fox, towards the killing of
which he intends to use all his energies and intellects. Mrs. Carbuncle,
who did not quite understand the sort of persistency by which a Sir
Griffin can be possessed, feared greatly that Lucinda was about to lose
her prize, and spoke out accordingly.
"Will you, then, just have the kindness to tell me what it is you propose
to yourself?" asked Mrs. Carbuncle.
"I don't propose anything."
"And where will you go when your money's done?"
"Just where I am going now," said Lucinda. By which it may be feared that
she indicated a place to which she should not on such an occasion have
made an allusion.
"You don't like anybody else?" suggested Mrs. Carbuncle.
"I don't like anybody or anything," said Lucinda.
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