She had removed the handkerchief, and had put on a little cap with pink ribbons, and a maroon dressing-jacket, daintily fulled at the neck and sleeves.
"My dear friend," said she as he entered, "I wish to make a last few remarks to you.

No, no," she continued, laughing, as she saw a look of dismay upon his face.

"I shall not dream of dying for at least another thirty years.

A woman should be ashamed to die before she is seventy.
I wish, Clara, that you would ask your father to step up.

And you, Ida, just pass me my cigarettes, and open me a bottle of stout." "Now then," she continued, as the doctor joined their party.