The deep contralto music of her voice contrasted oddly with her matter-of-fact manner and words.

"It's just that Peter and I are made of common clay, and that you are not.

So, of course, we understand each other.

I don't mean to say that we don't quarrel pretty often.

I dare say we always shall.
I am good-tempered, but I like my own way; and, besides"-- she spoke quite cheerfully--"anybody would quarrel with Peter.