"Love is sure a thorny way, Euan." "Have a care for your own skirts then," said I ungraciously.
"My skirts!" "Yours, Lanette.

Your petticoat needs mending now." "If love no more than rend my petticoat I ought to be content," she said coolly.
Silenced by her effrontery, which truly passed all bounds, I merely glared at her, and presently she laughed outright.
"Broad-brim," said she, "I was not born yesterday.

Have no worries concerning me, but look to yourself, for I think you have been sorely hit at last.

And God knows such wounds go hard with a truly worthy and good young man." "I make nothing of your nonsense," said I coldly.
"What?
Nothing?
And yonder sits its pretty and romantic inspiration?
I am glad I have lived to see the maid who dealt you your first wound!" "Do you fancy that I am in love ?" said I defiantly.
"Why not admit what your lop-ears and moony mien yell aloud to the world entire ?" "Have you no common sense, Lana?
Do you imagine a man can fall in love in a brief week ?" "I have been wondering," said she coolly, "whether you have ever before seen her." "Continue to wonder," said I bluntly.
"I do....

Because you call her 'Lois' so readily--and you came near it the first day you had apparently set eyes on her.