"You will have to tell me all the things I mustn't say and do."
"You will know them without my telling."
"Never in the world."
A few minutes more of silence, and then Garda's voice a second time: "Margaret."
"Well?"
"Tell me you are pleased, or I won't go on with it."
"Oh, Garda, that's not the tone—"
"Yes, it is. The very one! Don't be afraid, we like each other, he likes me in his way, and that will do; that is, it will do if you will tell me how to please him."
"You must ask him that."
"Oh, he'll tell; his principal occupation for a long time is going to be the discovery of my faults." But as she looked up at Margaret, re-awakened and laughing, it did not seem to the latter woman that he would be able to find many.