I'm angry with the cruel world, which, pursues an independent woman as it never does a man.

I'm grateful to you Harry; I'm grateful to you for telling me of that odious man." And she rose from her chair and gave him her pretty hand, which the silly fellow took, and kissed and clung to.

And he said many silly things, before she disengaged herself gently, and left him, saying it was time to dress, for dinner.
And Harry went away, excited, and a little hopeful, but only a little.
The happiness was only a gleam, which departed and left him thoroughly, miserable.

She never would love him, and she was going to the devil, besides.

He couldn't shut his eyes to what he saw, nor his ears to what he heard of her.
What had come over this thrilling young lady-killer?
It was a pity to see such a gay butterfly broken on a wheel.