"I feel your mother's superiority--and you tell me I don't like her.

Haven't you seen how good she has been to me ?" She thought this way of putting it irresistible.

Ovid resisted, nevertheless.

Carmina plunged into lower depths of deceit immediately.
"Haven't you seen my pretty rooms--my piano--my pictures--my china--my flowers?
I should be the most insensible creature living if I didn't feel grateful to your mother." "And yet, you are afraid of her." She shook his arm impatiently.

"I say, No!" He was as obstinate as ever.