It was not Mr.Hamilton's fault that he had a face like a Romish priest; evidently he had his good points, like other people, in spite of his rudeness in laughing at me.

But I could not--no, I could not tolerate that remark of his, 'that a girl would do anything to make herself talked about.' It was odious, cynical, utterly malevolent.

I hoped Uncle Max would defer the introduction as long as possible.

I never wished to know anything of Gladwyn or its master.

These thoughts occupied me until I fell asleep; and then I dreamt of Jill.
Once or twice I woke in the night, disturbed by a low growl from Tinker, who slept in the passage.