It was my fault and I've got to confess.

I've had practice in confessing, fortunately." "Well, she's in the room," said Diana.

"You can go in if you want to.

I wouldn't dare.

And I don't believe you'll do a bit of good." With this encouragement Anne bearded the lion in its den--that is to say, walked resolutely up to the sitting-room door and knocked faintly.
A sharp "Come in" followed.
Miss Josephine Barry, thin, prim, and rigid, was knitting fiercely by the fire, her wrath quite unappeased and her eyes snapping through her gold-rimmed glasses.