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Updated: May 15, 2025
"'What the devil, sir, do you mean? shouted the major. "'Oh, I shall die of shame, sobbed she. "'I'll shoot him like a riddle, muttered old Belson. "By this time the whole table had got at the story, and such peals of laughter, mingled with suggestions for my personal maltreatment, I never heard. All my attempts at explanation were in vain.
At first I went to a town called Hoddenham, in Buckinghamshire, five miles from my father's, where, at the house of one Belson, a few who were called Quakers did meet sometimes on a first day of the week; but I found little satisfaction there.
"'Zounds! thought I, as a pang of jealousy shot through my heart, 'is it the major she means? For old Belson, with his bag wig and rouged cheeks, was seated on the other side of her. "'What a dear thing it is! said Polly. "'Worse and worse, said I; 'it must be him. "'I do so love his muzzy face. "'It is him! said I, throwing off a bumper, and almost boiling over with passion at the moment.
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