"I shall want more than that, Mary."
"Then you must come down and see me. When you do come they will be happy, happy days for me. But of course we cannot be married for the next twenty years."
"Say forty, Mary."
"I will say anything that you like;—you will know what I mean just as well. And, Phineas, I must tell you one thing,—though it makes me sad to think of it, and will make me sad to speak of it."
"I will not have you sad on our last night, Mary."
"I must say it. I am beginning to understand how much you have given up for me."
"I have given up nothing for you."
"If I had not been at Killaloe when Mr. Monk was here, and if we had not,—had not,—oh dear, if I had not loved you so very much, you might have remained in London, and that lady would have been your wife."
"Never!" said Phineas stoutly.
"Would she not? She must not be your wife now, Phineas. I am not going to pretend that I will give you up."