When he converses with me on art or literature, about which he knows twice as much as I do, and at least ten times as much as you." (Jane gasped again) "I do not make a silly answer and turn to my neighbor at the other side with a remark about the tables or the weather.

When he is willing to be pleased, as he always is, I am willing to be pleasant.

And that is why he likes me." "He does NOT like you.

He is the same to everyone." "Except his wife.

He likes me so much that you, like a great goose as you are, came up here to watch us at our duets, and made yourself as disagreeable as you possibly could whilst I was making myself charming.
The poor man was ashamed of you." "He wasn't," said Jane, sobbing.