Her going grieved me to the heart, and that she should go thus incensed stung me yet more.

I was jealous of every man in London town.

Had not my argument, then, some reason in it after all?
"Fare-you-well, madame," said I, with a heavy frown and a sweeping bow.
No player from the Lane could have been more tragic.
"Fare-you-well, sir.

I will not detain you, for you have, I know, other farewells to make." "Not for a week yet!" I cried, goaded to a show of exultation that Cydaria stayed so long.
"I don't doubt that you'll make good use of the time," she said, as with a fine dignity she waved me to the door.

Girl as she was, she had caught or inherited the grand air that great ladies use.
Gloomily I passed out, to fall into the hands of my lord, who was walking on the terrace.