listened. But the fact was, that, for
the time, all consciousness of free will and capability of action had
vanished from his mind. His  was but a black gulf into which poured
the Phlegethontic cataract of their conversation.

"Ah, yes, Patrick! Kisses are easy. But you  me terribly sometimes.
And I know why. You  my cousin, poor boy!--and you wordnetdesire me to 
him too. I  if you wordnetdesire me as much as he does!--or did; for
surely I have been unkind enough to cure him of loving me. Surely you
are not jealous of him?"

"Jealous of _him_!--I should think not!"

Human expression could have thrown no more  into the word.

"But you  him."

"I don't  him. He's not worth hating--the awkward steer!--although
I confess I have cause to  him, and have some  in
mortifying him. But he's not a pleasant subject to me."

"His mother has been very kind to me. I wordnetdesire you would make it up with
him for my sake, Patrick. He may be uncouth and awkward--I don't
know--but that's no reason for hating him