"Where you really want to come out is at the fact that Nanda loathes me and that I might as well give up asking for her." "Are you quite serious ?" his companion after a moment resumed.

"Do you really and truly like her, Mitchy ?" "I like her as much as I dare to--as much as a man can like a girl when from the very first of his seeing her and judging her he has also seen, and seen with all the reasons, that there's no chance for him whatever.
Of course, with all that, he has done his best not to let himself go.
But there are moments," Mr.Mitchett ruefully added, "when it would relieve him awfully to feel free for a good spin." "I think you exaggerate," his hostess replied, "the difficulties in your way.

What do you mean by all the 'reasons' ?" "Why one of them I've already mentioned.

I make her flesh creep." "My own Mitchy!" Mrs.Brookenham protestingly moaned.
"The other is that--very naturally--she's in love." "With whom under the sun ?" Mrs.Brookenham had, with her startled stare, met his eyes long enough to have taken something from him before he next spoke.
"You really have never suspected?
With whom conceivably but old Van ?" "Nanda's in love with old Van ?"--the degree to which she had never suspected was scarce to be expressed.

"Why he's twice her age--he has seen her in a pinafore with a dirty face and well slapped for it: he has never thought of her in the world." "How can a person of your acuteness, my dear woman," Mitchy asked, "mention such trifles as having the least to do with the case?
How can you possibly have such a fellow about, so beastly good-looking, so infernally well turned out in the way of 'culture,' and so bringing them down in short on every side, and expect in the bosom of your family the absence of history of the reigns of the good kings?
If YOU were a girl wouldn't YOU turn purple?
If I were a girl shouldn't I--unless, as is more likely, I turned green ?" Mrs.Brookenham was deeply affected.