I think you've no business to go about studying people, as you do.

It's abominable." "Go on," said the young man.

"That Puritan conscience of yours! It appeals to the old Covenanter strain in me--like a voice of pre-existence.

Go on--" "Oh, if I went on I should merely say it was not only abominable, but contemptible." "You could be my guardian angel, Alma," said the young man, making his eyes more and more slumbrous and dreamy.
"Stuff! I hope I have a soul above buttons!" He smiled, as she rose, and followed her across the room.

"Good-night; Mr.Beaton," she said.
Miss Woodburn and Fulkerson came in from the other room.