Well, I have three hundred pounds and more.

Call it mine, call it yours.

But I must know that you're not going to do anything foolish.
Of course, you don't tell me everything; I have no right to expect it.
You haven't misled me; I knew from the first that--well, a girl of your age, and with your face, doesn't live alone in London without adventures.

I shouldn't think of telling you all mine, and I don't ask to know yours--unless I begin to have a part in them.

There's something wrong: of course, I can see that.