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Updated: May 6, 2025
I was going on to point out how frightfully different from all this my ogre was, how he would devour a half-cooked chop, and drink a pint of ale from the public-house, &c., &c., when she interrupted me, saying with an odd expression of voice, "You are satirical, cozzie. He's not the worst sort of man you've just described. A woman might be very happy with him.
They lacked that something which makes a woman feel motherly. "When did you arrive, cozzie?" she asked. "A fortnight ago yesterday." "Ah, you sly thing! What have you been doing with yourself all the time?" "Furnishing." "What! you came into an empty house?" "Not quite that, but nearly." "It is very odd I should never have seen your husband. We have crossed each other twenty times."
When I entered, there she was, Mrs. Morley, alias Cousin Judy. "Well, little cozzie!" she cried, as she kissed me three or four times, "I'm glad to see you gone the way of womankind, wooed and married and a'! Fate, child! inscrutable fate!" and she kissed me again. She always calls me little coz, though I am a head taller than herself.
"What did you love him for?" "Because he was a philosopher." "That's the oddest reason I ever heard for marrying a man." "I said for loving him, Judy." Her bright eyes were twinkling with fun. "Come, cozzie," she said, "give me a proper reason for falling in love with this husband of yours."
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