I am glad that you feel like laughing." "As a matter of fact," she declared, "I feel much more like crying.
Don't you know that you were very foolish last night?
You ought to have left me alone.

Why didn't you?
You would have saved yourself a great deal of trouble." He nodded, as though that point of view did, in some degree, commend itself to him.
"Yes," he admitted, "I suppose I should.

I do not, even now, understand why I interfered.

I can only remember that it didn't seem possible not to at the time.

I suppose one must have impulses," he added, with a little frown.
"The reflection," she remarked, helping herself to another roll, "seems to annoy you." "It does," he confessed.