"One moment, Mr. Summers. I am sure you would be unwilling to do another an injury, even unconsciously. If you will restrain your impatience I will endeavour to explain to you exactly how the matter lies."
"How the matter lies? That's just what it does do--it lies! Or some one does, at any rate."
"Mr. Summers, you are a man of honour--we are both men of honour, I trust. Would you have me break my plighted word?"
"Break your plighted word? That depends. If you've plighted your word to break my heart, by George! I'd have you break it, then!"
"Let me remove this matter from the realms of romance into the regions of common sense."
"When you City men begin to talk about common sense you mean something very common indeed."
"Mr. Summers, this is a very solemn subject to me."
"Solemn subject to you! I wonder what sort of subject you think it is to me. Is she going to be my wife or yours?"
"Miss Truscott will be the wife of neither."
"Won't she? By George, we'll see!"