You are too fond of trying to compel everybody to do as you wish." "I make 'em see that what I wish is what they ought.

That's not compelling." "It's even more unpopular." "I'm not looking for popularity, but for success." "Well, please don't annoy me in the mornings hereafter." "You don't seem to realize you've renounced your foolish idlers and all their ways, and have joined the working classes." His good humor had come back with breakfast; he had finished two large trout, much bread and marmalade and coffee--and it had given her a pleasure that somehow seemed vulgar and forbidden to see him eat so vastly, with such obvious delight.

As he made his jest about her entry into the working classes--she who suggested a queen bee, to employ the labors of a whole army of willing toilers, while she herself toiled not--he was tilted back at his ease, smoking a cigarette and watching the sunbeams sparkle in the waves of her black hair like jewels showered there.

"You're surely quite well again," he went on, the trend of his thought so hidden that he did not see it himself.
"I don't feel especially well," said she, instantly on guard.
He laughed.

"You'd not dare say that to yourself in the mirror.