What for ?" And catching sight of Siward outside in the starlight, divined perhaps something of her hostess' meaning, for she laughed uneasily, like a child who winces under a stern eye.
"You don't suppose for a moment," she began, "that I have--" "Yes I do.

You always do." "Not with that sort of man," she returned naively; "he won't." Mrs.Ferrall regarded her suspiciously: "You always pick out exactly the wrong man to play with--" They had moved back side by side into the hall, the hostess' arm linked in the arm of the younger girl.
"The wrong man ?" repeated Sylvia, instinctively freeing her arm, her straight brows beginning to bend inward.
"I didn't mean that--exactly.

You know how much I care for his mother--and for him." The obstinate downward trend of the brows, the narrowing blue gaze signalled mutiny to the woman who knew her so well.
"What is so wrong with Mr.Siward ?" she asked.
"Nothing.

There was an affair--" "This spring in town.

I know it.