"That there was something between you. Papa said so."
"If Papa said so you might have known there was nothing in it."
"And isn't there?"
"Of course there isn't. You can put that idea out of your head forever."
"All the same I believe that's why you're going."
"I'm going because I can't stand this place any longer. You said I'd be sick of it in three months."
"You're not sick of it. You love it. It's me you can't stand."
"No, Ally—no."
She plunged for another argument and found it.
"What I can't stand is living with Papa."