And he never even mentions me, who gave him a top, when he should have had the whip.

I will not pretend to understand him, for he always was beyond me.

Dark and excitable, moody and capricious, haughty and sarcastic, and devoid of love for animals.

You remember his pony, and what he did to it, and the little dog that crawled upon her stomach towards him.

For your sake I would have put up with him, my dear, and striven to improve his nature, which is sure to be much worse at six-and-twenty, after so many years abroad.