"You are looking very well, Constance," said Prelice when the two were seated in the drawing-room, which was more gorgeous than artistic.
"I'm not well then. I'm nearly worried to death."
"So sorry. Tell me all about it."
"I'll do nothing of the sort."
"I beg your pardon. Let us chat about the weather."
"Do you think that I have time to waste in discussing barometers?" She rose, impetuously.
"Don't know, I'm sure," replied Prelice, keeping his temper admirably.
"Well then, I haven't."
"Would it do any good if I gave you a thorough shaking?"
"Yes, it would. If Dolly shook me I should respect him; but he lets me lead him the life of a dog, and doesn't even bark, much less bite."