"I have no idea of giving half trust to anything." "Yet that is quite as much as it is safe to give to most things," said Winthrop.
"Is it ?" "I am afraid so." "I wouldn't give a pin for anything I couldn't trust entirely," said Elizabeth.
"Which shews what a point of perfection the manufacture of pins has reached since the days of Anne Boleyn," said Winthrop.
"Of Anne Boleyn! -- What of them then ?" "Only that a statute was passed in that time, entitled, 'An act for the true making of pins;' so I suppose they were then articles of some importance.

But the box may be trusted, Miss Haye, for strength, if not for agreeableness.

A quarter of agreeableness with a remainder of strength, is a fair proportion, as things go." "Do you mean to compare life with this dirty box ?" said Elizabeth.
"They say an image should always elevate the subject," said Winthrop smiling.
"What was the matter with the making of pins," said Elizabeth, "that an act had to be made about it ?" "Why in those days," said Winthrop, "mechanics and tradespeople were in the habit occasionally of playing false, and it was necessary to look after them." Elizabeth sat silently looking out again, wondering -- what she had often wondered before -- where ever her companion had got his cool self-possession; marvelling, with a little impatient wonder, how it was that he would just as lief talk to her in a blacksmith's shop in a thunder-storm, as in anybody's drawing- room with a band playing and fifty people about.

She was no match for him, for she felt a little awkward.

She, Miss Haye, the heiress in her own right, who had lived in good company ever since she had lived in company at all.