"This is not kind of her." "Is it so disagreeable to you to see me ?" asked the young man.
"I didn't expect it.

I don't like such surprises." "But you knew I was in town; it was natural we should meet." "Do you call this meeting?
I hoped I shouldn't see you.

In so big a place as London it seemed very possible." "It was apparently repugnant to you even to write to me," her visitor went on.
Isabel made no reply; the sense of Henrietta Stackpole's treachery, as she momentarily qualified it, was strong within her.

"Henrietta's certainly not a model of all the delicacies!" she exclaimed with bitterness.

"It was a great liberty to take." "I suppose I'm not a model either--of those virtues or of any others.
The fault's mine as much as hers." As Isabel looked at him it seemed to her that his jaw had never been more square.