Her dress, like the foam of a summer sea, mocked the winter in her face.
"There is nothing to forgive," she said, smiling icily.

"I came for a variety entertainment and I have not been disappointed.

Good-bye.
Perhaps Mr.Pasquale will be so kind as to put me into a cab." "I will drive you home, if you will allow me," said Pasquale.
We separated, shaking hands as if nothing had happened, as perfunctorily as if we had been the most distant of acquaintances.
On our way back we spoke very little.

Carlotta nestled close against me, seeking the shelter of my arm.

She cried, I don't know why, but it seemed to afford comfort.