“Did you ever know me at loss for an answer yet? I said: 'So I have observed in my dealings with you.' The Mussuck swelled with pride. He is coming to call on me tomorrow. The Hawley Boy is coming too.”
“'Strict supervision and play them off one against the other. That, Mrs. Hauksbee, is the secret of our Government.' And I dare say if we could get to The Mussuck's heart, we should find that he considers himself a man of the world.”
“As he is of the other two things. I like The Mussuck, and I won't have you call him names. He amuses me.”
“He has reformed you, too, by what appears. Explain the interval of sanity, and hit Tim on the nose with the paper-cutter, please. That dog is too fond of sugar. Do you take milk in yours?”
“No, thanks. Polly, I'm wearied of this life. It's hollow.”
“Turn religious, then. I always said that Rome would be your fate.”
“Only exchanging half a dozen attaches in red for one and in black, and if I fasted, the wrinkles would come, and never, never go. Has it ever struck you, dear, that I'm getting old?”
“Thanks for your courtesy. I'll return it. Ye-es we are both not exactly—how shall I put it?”
“What we have been. 'I feel it in my bones,' as Mrs. Crossley says. Polly, I've wasted my life.”
“As how?”