'Perhaps my arms are pressing you ?' It 's the best thing they can do,' murmured Evan, dejectedly.
'What, sir ?' 'Go and drown themselves.' Polly screwed her lips, as if she had a pin between them, and continued: 'Miss Rose was quite sensible when she praised you as her friend; she meant it--every word; and then sudden what does Mr.Laxley do, but say you was something else besides friend--worse or better; and she was silent, which made him savage, I could hear by his voice.

And he said, Mr.Harrington, "You meant it if she did not." "No," says she, "I know better; he's as honest as the day." Out he flew and said such things: he said, Mr.Harrington, you wasn't fit to be Miss Rose's friend, even.
Then she said, she heard he had told lies about you to her Mama, and her aunts; but her Mama, my lady, laughed at him, and she at her aunts.

Then he said you--oh, abominable of him!' 'What did he say ?' asked Evan, waking up.
'Why, if I were to tell my Miss Rose some things of him,' Polly went on, 'she'd never so much as speak to him another instant.' 'What did he say ?' Evan repeated.
'I hate him!' cried Polly.

'It's Mr.Laxley that misleads Mr.Harry, who has got his good nature, and means no more harm than he can help.

Oh, I didn't hear what he said of you, sir.