"With others."
He drew up to relieve himself of a critical and condemnatory expiration of a certain length. This young lady knew too much. But how physically exquisite she was!
"Could you, Clara, could you promise me—I hold to it. I must have it, I know his shy tricks—promise me to give him ultimately another chance? Is the idea repulsive to you?"
"It is one not to be thought of."
"It is not repulsive?"
"Nothing could be repulsive in Mr. Whitford."
"I have no wish to annoy you, Clara."
"I feel bound to listen to you, Willoughby. Whatever I can do to please you, I will. It is my life-long duty."
"Could you, Clara, could you conceive it, could you simply conceive it—give him your hand?"
"As a friend. Oh, yes."