'I am afraid I speak my mind pretty freely, in spite of bystanders.

Well, Miss Garston, so I hear you have come down as a sort of female Quixote among us.

Heathfield is to be the scene of your mission.' I was so angry at the tone in which he said this that I made no reply.
What right had a perfect stranger to meddle in my business?
It was all Uncle Max's fault; if he had only held his tongue.
'Cunliffe was up at Gladwyn the other night,' he continued in the same off-hand way, 'and he told us all about it.' 'I am sorry to hear it,' very stiffly.
'Sorry! Why?
Good deeds ought to be talked about, ought they not, _pro bono publico_, eh?
Why not, Miss Garston ?' 'Good intentions are not deeds.' 'True; you have me there.

I suppose you think you must not reckon on your chickens before they are hatched; the _pro bono publico_ scheme is not properly hatched yet, except in theory.

I am afraid I shall make you angry if I tell you I was rather amused at the whole thing.' 'I am glad to afford you amusement, Mr.Hamilton.' 'Ah, I see you are deeply offended; what a pity, and in five minutes too! That comes of my unfortunate habit of speaking my mind.