“Will you go with me to Wells, ma’am, or will you not?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Abby meekly. ‘If you are quite sure you wouldn’t prefer Miss Butterbank’s company to mine!’
The carriage had drawn up in front of her house. Mr Calverleigh, alighting from it, and turning to hand her down, said: ‘I should, of course, but having already invited you I feel it would be uncivil to fob you off.’
‘Piqued, repiqued, and capoted!’ said Abby, acknowledging defeat.”
―
Georgette Heyer,
Black Sheep
