Let me take your things off.

You're going to stay with me to-night, you know.

Sit still, and let me take them off.

Dear, good old Lyddy! Oh, will you do my hair for me tomorrow morning?
Think of doing my hair again! Poor old Lyddy, you always did cry when you were glad, and never for anything else.

Shall I sit on your lap, like I used to do after I'd been naughty, years and years ago?
Oh, years and years; you don't know how old I am, Lyddy.