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But how could Nessy be longin'
For the woman that—There you go ding-dongin'!
Who talked of longin'? But the cruel she traited her
About the ring, you'd think she'd ha' hated her.
Well lerrit be wutchin', if you choose,
And nothin' but wutchin'—I don't refuse.
But maybe there's curiouser wrinkles
Till wutching even, my pennywinkles!
But drop it! drop it!
 

Let it.