"But then, so long as people are nice, I never care whether they are rich or poor.

That is the first question I ask when people come into the neighborhood.

Are they really nice?
Dear me, Ruth, what beautiful hair you have; and mine coming off so! And, talking of hair, did you ever see anything like Mr.Dare's?
Somebody must really speak to him about it.

If he would keep his hands still, and not talk so quick, and let his hair grow a little, I really think he would not look so like a foreigner." "I don't suppose he minds looking like one." "My _dear_!" "His mother was a Frenchwoman, wasn't she?
I am sure I have heard so fifty times since his uncle died." "And if she was," said Evelyn, reprovingly, "is not that an extra reason for his giving up anything that will remind people of it?
And we ought to try and forget it, Ruth, and behave just the same to him as if she had been an Englishwoman.

I wonder if he is a Roman Catholic ?" "Ask him." "I hope he is not," continued Evelyn, taking up her candle to go.