"No, I don't love him at all."
"Flo, it is impious to hear your talk; it is just on a par with those awfully clever papers of yours—those stories and those articles. You have made a terrible sensation at Dawlish. You are becoming notorious, my dear. It is awful for a little widow like me to have a notorious daughter. You must stop it, Flo; you really must!"
"Come, mother, I will get you a cup of tea. What does it matter what the Dawlish people say? You will spend the night, of course?"
"You and I, my dear, will spend some of the night in the train."
"Now, mother, what does this mean?"
"Listen, Flo. Yes, you may get me a cup of tea and a new-laid egg, if you have such a thing."
"But I have not."
"Then a rasher of bacon done to a turn and a little bit of toast. I can toast the bread myself. You are not at all badly off in this nice room, but——"
"Go on, mother, go on; do explain why you have come."
"It is your aunt, dear; she is very ill indeed. She is not expected to recover."