"All your people are coming! You know, mother, it is such an awful bore."
"Madame Melmotte and her daughter will be here."
"One looks such a fool carrying on that kind of thing in one's own house. Everybody sees that it has been contrived. And it is such a pokey, stuffy little place!"
Then Lady Carbury spoke out her mind. "Felix, I think you must be a fool. I have given over ever expecting that you would do anything to please me. I sacrifice everything for you and I do not even hope for a return. But when I am doing everything to advance your own interests, when I am working night and day to rescue you from ruin, I think you might at any rate help a little,—not for me of course, but for yourself."
"I don't know what you mean by working day and night. I don't want you to work day and night."
"There is hardly a young man in London that is not thinking of this girl, and you have chances that none of them have. I am told they are going out of town at Whitsuntide, and that she's to meet Lord Nidderdale down in the country."
"She can't endure Nidderdale. She says so herself."
"She will do as she is told,—unless she can be made to be downright in love with some one like yourself. Why not ask her at once on Tuesday?"
"If I'm to do it at all I must do it after my own fashion. I'm not going to be driven."
"Of course if you will not take the trouble to be here to see her when she comes to your own house, you cannot expect her to think that you really love her."