His voice was equally powerless to provoke a sign of animation.

He now displaced his hat, and said, "Dahlia!" She did not move.
"I am here to very little purpose, then," he remarked.
A guttering fall of her bosom was perceptible.
"For heaven's sake, take away that handkerchief, my good child! Why have you let your dinner get cold?
Here," he lifted a cover; "here's roast-beef.

You like it--why don't you eat it?
That's only a small piece of the general inconsistency, I know.

And why haven't they put champagne on the table for you?
You lose your spirits without it.

If you took it when these moody fits came on--but there's no advising a woman to do anything for her own good.