"You do get so sarcastic," observed Eliza.
"That's nothing—nothing to what I should be if I let myself go. But I don't choose to let myself go. I don't think he's worth it, and I don't think she's worth it either. It's a pity, perhaps, that they don't know that they're making themselves ridiculous, but it can't be helped. Personally, I sha'n't give the thing another thought."
"That's the best thing to do," said Eliza.
"Of course it is. Why trouble one's head about people of that class? And, I say, Eliza, if you meet that Mopworth woman in the street, there's no occasion for you to recognize her."
"That would look as if we were terribly cut up because we hadn't been asked to their party."
"Possibly. Whereas, I don't even consider it worth talking about."
We discussed the Mopworths and their party for another hour and a half, and then went to bed.
"Lying awake last night," I said at breakfast next morning, "I couldn't help thinking over the different things we have done for those serpents."
"What serpents?"