"A few minutes ago you said I knew what was good for you," he responded.
"You do," she said, "that is it, and it is only like me that I should hate you because you do. You must think," with a pathetic tone of appeal for herself in her voice, "that I do not mind being brutal to you; but I don't want to be. I don't want to do any of the things I am doing now."
She picked up the bouquet of Jacqueminot roses she had been carrying and had laid down near her.
"Don't talk about me," she said. "Let us talk about something else,—these, for instance. Do you know where they came from?"
"I could scarcely guess."
"Senator Planefield sent them to me."
He regarded them in silence.
"They match the dress," she said, "and they belong to it."
"Yes," he answered, "they match the dress."
Then he was silent again.