Why, kind sir, I am sure there is a nice BIG woodpile out that door over there she said, fluttering her long eyelashes at him. Those eyelashes were the only thing that kept Ms. Law-Foun-Tayne from being glued to the boobbar like all them udder gals.

If yew don't mind, I'll just sit my little ole self down on your bench and wait for a nice warrrmmmmm fye-arh...