It is her pitiful little protest, dear Madam, against your charm, your background, your grand manner." They sank upon an ample sofa near the fire, and though the other end of the large room was chilly, Lanley and Mrs.Wayne moved thither with a common impulse.
Mrs.Wayne turned almost tearfully to Lanley.
"I'm so sorry I've spoiled your party," she said.
"You've done much worse than that," he returned gravely.
"O Mr.Lanley," she wailed, "what have I done ?" "You've spoiled a friendship." "Between you and me ?" He shook his head.
"Between them and me.

I never heard people talk such nonsense, and yet I've been hearing people talk like that all my life, and have never taken it in.

Mrs.Wayne, I want you to tell me something frankly--" "Oh, I'm so terrible when I'm frank," she said.
"Do I talk like that ?" She looked at him and looked away again.
"Good God! you think I do!" "No, you don't talk like that often, but I think you feel that way a good deal." "I don't want to," he answered.

"I'm sixty-four, but I don't ever want to talk like Wilsey.

Won't you stop me whenever I do ?" Mrs.Wayne sighed.
"It will make you angry." "And if it does ?" "I hate to make people angry.