But it was all right--so Charlotte also put it: there was nothing in the world they liked better than these snatched felicities, little parties, long talks, with "I'll come to you to-morrow," and "No, I'll come to you," make-believe renewals of their old life.

They were fairly, at times, the dear things, like children playing at paying visits, playing at "Mr.Thompson" and "Mrs.Fane," each hoping that the other would really stay to tea.

Charlotte was sure she should find Maggie there on getting home--a remark in which Mrs.
Verver's immediate response to her friend's inquiry had culminated.

She had thus, on the spot, the sense of having given her plenty to think about, and that moreover of liking to see it even better than she had expected.

She had plenty to think about herself, and there was already something in Fanny that made it seem still more.
"You say your husband's ill?
He felt too ill to come ?" "No, my dear--I think not.