What Ho!
Nothing launches the old Postletwaite code of honor more than the sight of a sobbing young woman. Moved, you sit down next to her crumpled, boo-hooing form.
"Now there, there Cuddy" you say firmly. "Fatty does too love you, even more than tea time, and probably even more than dinner," you insist, deciding to stretch the point for sake of argument.
"No he doesn't!" she wails. "All he ever wanted to do is lounge about and eat, and I made him get up early and do charity! What a fool I was to think I could change such a slovenly lazabout! I am such a dunce!"
Uncertain about when exactly Cuddy switched from blaming you to blaming Fatty to blaming herself, you nonetheless feel a chivalric need to defend the female, even from her own accusations.
"Cuddy, don't be absurd, as I said Fatty loves you. Any man would. You are a beautiful young woman, full of grace and wit, not to mention giving of spirit and a pretty good croquet player, too." You smile, satisfied with yourself. No chevalier could be more preux, you think, although you omitted the fact that you believe that Cuddy invariably cheats at croquet.
She looks at you with shining eyes. "Ya really feel that way....Peter?" There is something deucedly unsettling about the way she says your name.
"Um, well, I say! That is to say, quite!"
While you admire your turn of phrase, Cuddy puts her hands on your shoulder and moves her mouth in towards yours.
"Oh sure, Petey! I gotcha, and I will! Oh, I always knew ya needed someone to look after you!"
You mind is desperately trying to analyze exactly where this conversation went wrong. To make matters worse, it looks as if you are about to
"Now there, there Cuddy" you say firmly. "Fatty does too love you, even more than tea time, and probably even more than dinner," you insist, deciding to stretch the point for sake of argument.
"No he doesn't!" she wails. "All he ever wanted to do is lounge about and eat, and I made him get up early and do charity! What a fool I was to think I could change such a slovenly lazabout! I am such a dunce!"
Uncertain about when exactly Cuddy switched from blaming you to blaming Fatty to blaming herself, you nonetheless feel a chivalric need to defend the female, even from her own accusations.
"Cuddy, don't be absurd, as I said Fatty loves you. Any man would. You are a beautiful young woman, full of grace and wit, not to mention giving of spirit and a pretty good croquet player, too." You smile, satisfied with yourself. No chevalier could be more preux, you think, although you omitted the fact that you believe that Cuddy invariably cheats at croquet.
She looks at you with shining eyes. "Ya really feel that way....Peter?" There is something deucedly unsettling about the way she says your name.
"Um, well, I say! That is to say, quite!"
While you admire your turn of phrase, Cuddy puts her hands on your shoulder and moves her mouth in towards yours.
"Oh sure, Petey! I gotcha, and I will! Oh, I always knew ya needed someone to look after you!"
You mind is desperately trying to analyze exactly where this conversation went wrong. To make matters worse, it looks as if you are about to