"I think you're a rude, spoilt child, Kitty."
"I know I'm spoilt by you, and you're forcing me to be rude. It isn't like you, as I said before, and so I thought I'd ask you why you did it. You've become tortuous, Auntie Janie, ever since the day Anthony left for Washington. I don't recognise you as a tortuous person, and, frankly, it makes me uncomfortable."
"What fault have you to find, Kitty, with me as hostess?"
Lady Jane put down the pen she had been holding in her hand all this time, and came over from her writing-table as though she foresaw that the discussion would take time.
She looked down at Lady Kitty, who was basking in front of the fire, and her cold eyes grew maternal.
"You're fond of me, Kitty, I believe."
"It would be odd if I wasn't. I'm selfish to the heart's core, but I'm really not bad enough not to be fond of you."
"I don't think you're selfish, Kitty. It is only a pose of yours. But I am glad you are fond of me. Few people are. My life has been a mistake, Kitty. I was not formed for happiness. If I had to do it over again, perhaps I would make an effort to live otherwise. But this is not what I meant to say. You think that child unhappy?"
"Anyone can see it with half an eye."