“It’s not for my pleasure,” said George.
“For whose, then?” she asked, stretching out her arms with a gesture of entreaty. “Cannot we say no more about it?”
“With all my heart.”
“And you will admit you were wrong?”
“That is saying more about it.”
“You cannot enjoy the position you are in.”
“I confess that.”
“Mr. Neston, do you never think it’s possible you are wrong? But no, never mind. Will you agree just to drop it?”
“Heartily. But there’s the Bull’s-eye.”
“Oh, bother the Bull’s-eye! I’ll go and see the editor,” said Neaera.