Molyneux: I regard Ninian as the most fatiguing item in the account. He has only two topics of conversation—his responsibilities and his improvements.
Lord William: And if you boil them down, they become the same thing—his pigstys.
Molyneux: You’re a nice unselfish boy, Tim: couldn’t you kill Ninian?
Lord William: Wait a moment, Tim. This requires serious consideration. Wouldn’t Ninian’s death leave Ann even busier than she is?
Lady Emily: And she might marry someone she loved, which would be very inconvenient for you all.
Molyneux: I don’t see that we profit much by the present state of affairs.
Tim: Ann’s in touch with so many kinds of life.
Mrs. Martineau: Ann is a woman of the world.
Tim: But not of this age.
Molyneux: Ann is the only spot of repose in the twentieth century. When she sits in a chair she doesn’t fidget; when she talks to you her attention doesn’t wander to someone else. When she wants to be listened to, she lowers her voice a little. I am sure that when she goes to bed she sleeps, and that when she wakes up she is refreshed.