She grasped his very tight, but said nothing till they had passed the rocks.

A few yards more and she found herself on a part of the road she knew, and was able to speak again.
'Do you know, Curdie, I don't quite like your song: it sounds to me rather rude,' she said.
'Well, perhaps it is,' answered Curdie.

'I never thought of that; it's a way we have.

We do it because they don't like it.' 'Who don't like it ?' 'The cobs, as we call them.' 'Don't!' said the nurse.
'Why not ?' said Curdie.
'I beg you won't.

Please don't.' 'Oh! if you ask me that way, of course, I won't; though I don't a bit know why.