He talked on for several minutes, walking about and swaying his arms, as if in this way he could literally shake himself free of moral obligations.
Then, finding his throat dry, he had recourse to cognac, and Alice could at length speak.
'You haven't told me, Dick, who it is you're going to marry.' 'A lady called Miss Waltham--Adela Waltham.

She lives here in Wanley.' 'Does she know about Emma ?' The question was simply put, but it seemed to affect Richard very disagreeably.
'No, of course she doesn't.

What would be the use ?' He threw himself into a chair, crossed his feet, and kept silence.
'I'm very sorry for Emma,' murmured his sister.
Richard said nothing.
'How shall you tell her, Dick ?' 'I can't tell her!' he replied, throwing out an arm.

'How is it likely I can tell her ?' 'And Jane's so dreadfully bad,' continued Alice in the undertone.
'She's always saying she cares for nothing but to see Emma married.
What _shall_ we do?
And everything seemed so first-rate.

Suppose she summonses you, Dick ?' The noble and dignified legal process whereby maidens right themselves naturally came into Alice's thoughts.