"I am not.

I hung my head while you were fighting, because, what could I do?
I would not have left you.

Girls can only say, 'I will perish with him.'" "But," Wilfrid tried to laugh, "there was no necessity for that sort of devotion.

What are you thinking of?
It was half in good-humour, all through.

Part of their fun!" Clearly Emilia's conception of the recent fray was unchangeable.
"And the place for girls is at home; that's certain," he added.
"I should always like to be where..." Her voice flowed on with singular gravity to that stop.
Wilfrid's hand travelled mechanically to his pricking cheek-bone.
Was it possible that a love-scene was coming on as a pendant to that monstrously ridiculous affair of half-an-hour back?
To know that she had sufficient sensibility was gratifying, and flattering that it aimed at him.