“So it seemed to me.”
“But she has had enough of the convent.”
“I don’t know,” said Osmond. “I like what they’ve made of her. It’s very charming.”
“That’s not the convent. It’s the child’s nature.”
“It’s the combination, I think. She’s as pure as a pearl.”
“Why doesn’t she come back with my flowers then?” Madame Merle asked. “She’s not in a hurry.”
“We’ll go and get them.”
“She doesn’t like me,” the visitor murmured as she raised her parasol and they passed into the garden.