She'd marry me if it wasn't for the Johnnie with the dibs.

She doesn't care for HIM: she wants his money.

He dresses badly, don't you see; and, after all, the clothes make the man! I'D like to get at him.

I'D spoil his pretty face for him." And he assumed a playfully pugilistic attitude.
"You really want to get rid of this other fellow ?" I asked, seeing my chance.
"Get rid of him?
Why, of course! Chuck him into the river some nice dark night if I could once get a look at him!" "As a preliminary step, would you mind letting me see one of Miss Montague's letters ?" I inquired.
He drew a long breath.

"They're a bit affectionate, you know," he murmured, stroking his beardless chin in hesitation.