'I'm so used to being looked at and listened to on the stage that I feel as if people were always watching me and criticising me, even when I go out to dinner.' 'I've no right at all to give you my opinion, because I'm nobody in particular,' answered Lady Maud, 'and you are tremendously famous and all that! But you'll make yourself miserable for nothing if you get into the way of caring about anybody's opinion of you, except on the stage.

And you'll end by making the other people uncomfortable too, because you'll make them think that you mean to teach them manners!' 'Heaven forbid!' Margaret laughed again.
The carriage stopped, and Lady Maud thanked her, bade her good-night, and got out.
'No,' she said, as the footman was going to ring the bell, 'I have a latch-key, thank you.' It was a small house in Charles Street, Berkeley Square, and the windows were quite dark.

There was not even a light in the hall when Margaret saw Lady Maud open the front door and disappear within.
Margaret went over the little incidents of the evening as she drove home alone, and felt better satisfied with herself than she had been since Lushington's visit, in spite of having deliberately gone to sleep in Mustapha Pasha's drawing-room.

No one had made her feel that she was changed except for the better, and Lady Maud, who was most undoubtedly a smart woman of the world, had taken a sudden fancy to her.

Margaret told herself that this would be impossible if she were ever so little vulgarised by her stage life, and in this reflection she consoled herself for what Lushington had said, and nursed her resentment against him.
The small weaknesses of celebrities are sometimes amazing.