"But if you do—I'm much obliged to you—but it makes no difference,
Reggie."
"And as to my being conceited—you're always hinting I'm conceited—I'm no more so than any young man would be in my place, with a lot of girls trying to catch him—Ah, there you go! Don't jump on me, Deleah. You know what I mean. Lots of girls are looking out to get married, and I've got money, and I've got a name—"
"On the Brewers' carts. 'Forcus and Sons; Brewers.'"
"It's a name I ain't ashamed of, and one that's pretty well known, at any rate!"
"And my name, or my mother's name, is over a shop-doorway, 'licensed to sell tobacco and snuff'; and it's a name that we can't be proud of, Reggie."
"But I'll put up with it, Deleah. I've made up my mind, and I'll go through with it. The name wouldn't be yours any longer, dear, when you'd taken mine; and as for the grocer's shop—"
"Why, here it is!" Deleah said. "And so good-bye, Reggie."
"I was coming in with you."
"You can't unless I ask you."
"And you're not going to? You're not very polite or kind to me, Deleah, upon my word!"