"I heard it a little time ago, but I forget the answer.

I'd have given anything to be able to cap you! Then you'd have put me down for a clever woman, and I should have lived on the reputation henceforth and for ever.

But it's all my own, indeed; I'm not afraid of crying." "_Do_ you ever cry?
I can't easily imagine it." "Oh yes, sometimes," she answered, sighing, and at the same time lowering her veil again.

"But you haven't read my face for me." "It's a face I'm sorry to have seen." "Why ?" she asked, holding her hands clasped before her, the palms turned outwards.
"I shall think of it often after tonight, and imagine it with all its freshness gone, and marks of suffering and degradation upon it." "Suffering, perhaps; degradation, no.

Why should I be degraded ?" "You can't help yourself.