"What made you think of that?"
"You—behind the smoke. If the snow comes, the fires will be put out, but there will still be your smoke."
"I don't know what you're talking about," he said.
"I like to see you—behind the smoke."
"I'm glad you're pleased with something."
"I like a fair exchange," she said, and laughed at him, "but I shall offer up no more prayers."
"I don't understand this joke, but I like to see you laugh." Possession had emboldened him. "Helen, you're pretty."
"I'm sleepy. It's after ten. Good-night."
"I'll come tomorrow."
"But not on Saturday. Rupert comes home then."