You speak like a lady--all the parish notice it, and your uncle at Weatherbury is, I have heerd, a large farmer--much larger than ever I shall be.
May I call in the evening, or will you walk along with me o' Sundays?
I don't want you to make-up your mind at once, if you'd rather not." "No--no--I cannot.

Don't press me any more--don't.

I don't love you--so 'twould be ridiculous," she said, with a laugh.
No man likes to see his emotions the sport of a merry-go-round of skittishness.

"Very well," said Oak, firmly, with the bearing of one who was going to give his days and nights to Ecclesiastes for ever.
"Then I'll ask you no more.".