"Who are you to find fault?
What have you done to--" "I'll admit I've done very little; but you, yourself." "Never mind me.

What do you care for me?
What does anybody care ?" "Your mother, at least." "Yes, mother; poor, dear mother....

Oh, my God, I can't stand it, I can't stand it!" With a sob she broke and sank down by the table, hiding her face in her arms.

Dorian arose to go to her.

The door opened, and the mother appeared.
"What is it, Carlia," she asked in alarm.
The girl raised her head, swiftly dashed the tears from her eyes, then with a sad effort to smile, said: "Nothing, mother, nothing at all.