They leapt now to her brother and his wife, and sank, fatigued with their effort.

Two frail, nervous hands embraced Majendie's, till one of them let go, as she remembered Anne, and held her, too.
Anne had been vexed, and Majendie angry with her; but anger and vexation could not live in sight of the pure, tremulous, eager soul of love that looked at them out of Edith's eyes.
"What a skimpy honeymoon you've had," she said.

"Why did you go and cut it short like that?
Was it just because of me ?" In one sense it was because of her.

Anne was helpless before her question; but Majendie rose to it.
"I say--the conceit of her! No, it wasn't just because of you.

Anne agreed with me about Scarby.