Do you think he fears, as I do, that my aunt may find some means of separating us, even when Ovid comes back ?" "Very likely." She spoke in faint weary tones--listlessly leaning back in her chair.
Carmina asked if she had passed another sleepless night.
"Yes," she said, "another bad night, and the usual martyrdom in teaching the children.

I don't know which disgusts me most--Zoe's impudent stupidity, or Maria's unendurable humbug." She had never yet spoken of Maria in this way.

Even her voice seemed to be changed.

Instead of betraying the usual angry abruptness, her tones coldly indicated impenetrable contempt.

In the silence that ensued, she looked up, and saw Carmina's eyes resting on her anxiously and kindly.
"Any other human being but you," she said, "would find me disagreeable and rude--and would be quite right, too.