Summary

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 63. John is worsted by the women (1869)

John, you can love nobody, but your oat-ricks, and your hay-ricks.'
'Sister mine, because I rant not, neither rave of what I feel, can you be so shallow as to dream that I feel nothing? What is your love for Tom Faggus? What is your love for your baby (pretty darling as he is) to compare with such a love as for ever dwells with me?
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 63. John is worsted by the women (1869)

Upon this she changed her manner wholly, becoming so lively and cheerful that I was convinced of her indifference, and surprised even more than gratified.
'Go and earn your spurs, Cousin Ridd,' she said: 'you are strong enough for anything. Which side is to have the benefit of your doughty arm?'
'Have I not told you, Ruth,' I answered, not being fond of this kind of talk, more suitable for Lizzie, 'that I do not mean to join either side, that is to say, until——'
'Until, as the common proverb goes, you know which way the cat will jump. Oh, John Ridd!
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of R. D. Blackmore R. D. Blackmore Lorna Doone — 63. John is worsted by the women (1869)

Even for the sake of Tom, I cannot leave all helpless. The oat-ricks and the hay-ricks, which are my only love, they are welcome to make cinders of. But I will not have mother treated so; nor even little Lizzie, although you scorn your sister so.'
'Oh, John, I do think you are the hardest, as well as the softest of all the men I know. Not even a woman's bitter word but what you pay her out for. Will you never understand that we are not like you, John? We say all sorts of spiteful things, without a bit of meaning. John, for God's sake fetch Tom home
Source: Wikisource

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