You feel deeply; you will understand when I tell you all.

You call me a fine lady because I hold myself aloof from the senseless revelry of this mining camp; and you believe you hate me because you suppose I feel above you.

But you are a woman, and, whatever your past life may have been, your heart will respond to the story of a woman's trouble.

I 'm going to tell you mine, not so much for my sake as for your own.

I am not afraid of your knife; why, its sharp point would be almost welcome, were it not that I have serious work to do in the world before I die.