"Well, then, other people would."
"We shouldn't care about that."
"We? Who?"
"Glengall and I."
"Sylvia, you're talking as if you were really in earnest."
"So I am, but he likes you better than me. You ought to marry him, Pam."
But, to Sylvia's dismay, Pamela suddenly burst into tears.
"I shall never marry anyone," she cried amid her sobs.
"You poor dear old duffer, I was advising you for your good. But you're tired out. There, go asleep. I shan't take you to any more functions."
And Sylvia blew out the candle and jumped into bed. But Pamela, with the withered violets close to her, cried herself to sleep.