"We do not often meet; he doesn't live in England. I have not seen him for more than six months."
"Do you think he is faithful to you all that time?"
"What does it matter whether he is or not? When we meet we love each other just the same."
"I have never known a woman like you. You are the only one that has ever interested me. If you had been my mistress or my wife you would have been happier; you would have worked, and in work, not in pleasure, we may cheat life. You would have written your books, I should have written mine."
"I don't want you to think I am whining about my lot. I know what the value of life is; I'm not deceived, that is all."
"You are unhappy because your present life affords no outlet for your talent. Ah! had you had to fight the battle! How happy it would have made me to fight life with you! I wonder you never thought of leaving your husband, and throwing yourself into the battle of work."
"Supposing I wasn't able to make my living. To give up my home would be running too great a risk."
"How common all are when you begin to know them," thought Mike.
They spoke of the books they had read. She told him of Le Journal d'Amiel, explaining the charm that that lamentable record of a narrow, weak mind, whose power lay in an intense consciousness of its own failure, had for her. She spoke savagely, tearing out her soul, and flinging it as it were in Mike's face, frightening him not a little.
"I wish I had known Amiel; I think I could have loved him."