⸺Not in that place; said my uncle Toby ⸺
Though it was the most serious despair in nature to the corporal—he could not forbear smiling.
The young Beguine , continued the corporal, perceiving it was of great service to me—from rubbing for some time, with two fingers—proceeded to rub at length, with three—till by little and little she brought down the fourth, and then rubb’d with her whole hand: I will never say another word, an’ please your honour, upon hands again—but it was softer than sattin—
⸺Prithee, Trim , commend it as much as thou wilt, said my uncle Toby ; I shall hear thy story with the more delight⸺The corporal thank’d his master most unfeignedly; but having nothing to say upon the Beguine’s hand but the same over again⸺he proceeded to the effects of it.
The fair Beguine , said the corporal, continued rubbing with her whole hand under my knee—till I fear’d her zeal would weary her⸺“I would do a thousand times more,” said she, “for the love of Christ”⸺In saying which, she pass’d her hand across the flannel, to the part above my knee, which I had equally complain’d of, and rubb’d it also.
I perceived, then, I was beginning to be in love⸺
As she continued rub-rub-rubbing—I felt it spread from under her hand, an’ please your honour, to every part of my frame.⸺
The more she rubb’d, and the longer strokes she took⸺the more the fire kindled in my veins⸺till at length, by two or three strokes longer than the rest⸺my passion rose to the highest pitch⸺I seiz’d her hand⸺