If I paused for an instant, she begged me very gently to tell her more about myself; she was so sorry for me; but it did her good to hear me.
When I spoke of the life at Hyde Park Gate, and told her how little I was fitted for that sort of existence, she put down her shielding hand, and looked at me with strange wistfulness.
'No, you are too real, too much in earnest, to be satisfied with that sort of life.

Mr.Cunliffe used to tell us so.

And I seemed to understand it all before I saw you.

I always felt as though I knew you, even before we met.

I hope,' hesitating a little, 'that we shall see a great deal of you.