Some answer had to be given, and she said,-- "I'm not likely to marry a man who supposes he has anything to pardon." "I don't suppose it," cried Robert.
"You heard what father said." "I heard what he said, but I don't think the same.

What has Dahlia to do with you ?" He was proceeding to rectify this unlucky sentence.

All her covert hostility burst out on it.
"My sister ?--what has my sister to do with me ?--you mean!--you mean--you can only mean that we are to be separated and thought of as two people; and we are one, and will be till we die.

I feel my sister's hand in mine, though she's away and lost.

She is my darling for ever and ever.
We're one!" A spasm of anguish checked the girl.
"I mean," Robert resumed steadily, "that her conduct, good or bad, doesn't touch you.