"Yes," she went on, as if they had been gossiping on the most commonplace subjects, "I think you're right: this is the best of all perfumes." She looked at the clock.

"The children's dinner will be ready in ten minutes.

I must, and will, say what I have to say to you.

It may be the last poor return I can make, Carmina, for all your kindness." She returned to her chair.
"I can't help it if I frighten you," she resumed; "I must tell you plainly that I don't like the prospect.

In the first place, the sooner we two are parted--oh, only for a while!--the better for you.