"Why so we are—be careful—that branch will strike your face—I think I can reach it—a most obstinate branch—it persists in bending your way. Well, I can't blame it—there—how ever did this occur?"
"Why—you insisted on my leaving everything to you—I yielded from pure amiability—but I foresaw what would happen, because you hadn't the slightest idea where you were drifting."
"But I know quite well, where I'm drifting—"
"Then how were we caught in this tree?"
"Ah, that's another story—"
"You were certainly not looking ahead."
"Then where was I looking? You ought to know."
"You were lying back with your hands clasped behind your head, saying, 'I could go on like this forever,' or something to that effect, and we went plump into the tree."
"Poor Miss Stillwater—I'm a great trial—you'll never take me out again, will you?"
"Well, I won't say that—"