"Well, what do you want with me?"
"Are we friends?"
"You know best."
"We are; if you will let me tell Louisa that you are sorry—"
Cecilia, interrupting her, "O! Pray let me hear no more about Louisa!"
"What! Not confess that you were in the wrong! Oh, Cecilia! I had a better opinion of you."
"Your opinion is of no consequence to me now; for you don't love me."
"No, not when you are unjust, Cecilia."
"Unjust! I am not unjust; and if I were, you are not my governess."
"No, but am I not your friend?"