You must forgive me, Frances, but to me there is something far more loathing in the woman who kills a child than in the woman who slays a man.

Do not look so pale and grieved, my darling! John, we must be more careful what we say." "I must beg you to remember that you began the subject, Lance." "I am ashamed of making such a fuss," she continued, "but there are some subjects too horrible even to dwell upon or speak of, and that is one.

I am going into the garden, Lance; perhaps you and Mr.Ford would like your cigars there?
I am going to prune a favorite rose tree that is growing wild." "Do you understand pruning, Mrs.Fleming ?" I asked.
"Such small things as rose trees," she said.
"We will follow you, Frances," said her husband.

"My case is empty; I must get some more cigars." I fancied that she was unwilling to leave us together.

She lingered a few minutes, then went out.