I reverence neither the one nor the other.

Good riddance! The fit alone survive." "I still survive, if you please." "Proving the rule, dear.

But, yourself excepted, look at the few of us who chance to be here in the South.

Look at Courtlandt Classon, intellectually destitute! Cuyp, a mental brother to the ox; and Vetchen to the ass; and Mrs.Van Dieman to somebody's maidservant--that old harridan with all the patrician distinction of a Dame des Halles--" "Please, Louis!" "Dear, I am right.

Even Constance Palliser, still physically superb, but mentally morbid--in love with what once was Wayward--with the ghost she raised in her dead girlhood, there on the edge of yesterday--" "Louis! Louis! And _you_! What were you yesterday?
What are you to-day ?" "What do I care what I was and am ?--Dutch, British, burgher, or cavalier ?--What the deuce do I care, my dear?
The Malcourts are rotten; everybody knows it.