Then a little dim ripple of compunction broke in her mind.
"Michael," she said, "we are only joking about your getting conceited.
Miss Falbe and I are only joking.

And--and won't you take off your hat, Miss Falbe, for you are not going to hurry away, are you?
You are going to pay us a long visit." Michael had not time to remind his mother that ladies who come to tea do not usually take their hats off, for on the word Sylvia's hands were busy with her hatpins.
"I'm so glad you suggested that," she said.

"I always want to take my hat off.

I don't know who invented hats, but I wish he hadn't." Lady Ashbridge looked at her masses of bright hair, and could not help telegraphing a note of admiration, as it were, to Michael.
"Now, that's more comfortable," she said.

"You look as if you weren't going away next minute.