'Strange that I should still have to ask the question.' 'Oh, only a hymn on Sunday,' she answered off-hand.
'A hymn ?' 'Why not?
I like some of the old tunes very much.

They remind me of the golden age.' 'In your own life, you mean ?' She nodded.
'You have once or twice spoken of that time as if you were not quite happy in the present.' 'Of course I am not quite happy.

What woman is?
I mean, what woman above the level of a petted pussy-cat ?' Everard was leaning towards her on the head of the couch where he sat.
He gazed into her face fixedly.
'I wish it were in my power to remove some of your discontents.

I would, more gladly than I can tell you.' 'You abound in good nature, Mr.Barfoot,' she replied laughing.

'But unfortunately you can't change the world.' 'Not the world at large.