"You think you dislike me, don't you ?" said he.
"I do," replied she, her tone as cutting as her words were curt.
"How little that amounts to! All human beings--Grant, you, I, all of us, everybody--are brimful of vanity.

It slops over a little one way and we call it like.

It slops over the other way and we call it dislike--hate--loathing--according to the size of the slop.

Now, I'm not here to deal with vanity, but with good sense.

Has it occurred to you in the last few days that you and I have got to get married, whether we will or no ?" "It has not," she cried with frantic fury of human being cornered by an ugly truth.
"Oh, yes, it has.