"Circles!" says he. "Circles! What are circles? I've heard this talk of circles all my life," says he. "I've seen it going on all around me. It's rot—rot! It's my misfortune to find one so far above me."
"My money?" says she, scornful. "I've a lot of it."
He didn't say a word to that for a long time.
"Did you really think that of me for a minute?" says he at last.
"You take it for granted that I've thought of you at all?" says she.
"I wouldn't of dared," says he—and it sounded like the truth, through the door. "Don't class me that way!"
"How can a girl tell?" says she. "Men talk like this to girls——"
"Have they talked to you? Who was it?"
"My social opportunities," says she slow and bitter-like, "seem to be confined to our neighbors' gardener."
"Don't!" says he. "Oh, don't! I don't want to see you hurt, even by your own tongue."