I have not done so badly at the Bar this year." "Two hundred pounds, nineteen shillings and sevenpence, minus ninety-seven pounds rent of chambers and clerk," said Lady Honoria, with a disparaging accent on the sevenpence.
"I shall double it next year, and double that again the next, and so on.
I work from morning till night to get on, that you may have--what you live for," he said bitterly.
"Ah, I shall be sixty before that happy day comes, and want nothing but scandal and a bath chair.

I know the Bar and its moaning," she added, with acid wit.

"You dream, you imagine what you would like to come true, but you are deceiving me and yourself.

It will be like the story of Sir Robert Bingham's property once again.

We shall be beggars all our days.
I tell you, Geoffrey, that you had no right to marry me." Then at length he lost his temper.