"My dear Mabel, in what quarter sits the wind? Where's Mrs. Joyce?"
"Mother's out; she's going to stay at aunt's till to-morrow. You and I are alone together."
"Good business! Come and give me a kiss."
"No, don't touch me; I won't have it."
"There is something queer about the wind! What's wrong? Is there anything wrong?"
"I'm trying to tell you. It's not easy, but I'm going to tell you if you'll give me a chance."
"You've some bee in your bonnet. Let me get it out."
"You give me a chance, I say! I tried to tell you last night, but I couldn't. But I'm going to tell you now; I've got to!"
"Have you? Couldn't you tell me a little closer, instead of standing all that distance off?"
"I wouldn't come nearer for--for anything."