And what is to become of you when I am not here to get you out of your scrapes, or of Gertrude without me to check her inveterate snobbishness, is more than I can foresee." "I am not snobbish," said Gertrude, "although I do not choose to make friends with everyone.

But I never objected to you, Agatha." "No; I should like to catch you at it.

Hallo, Jane!" (who had suddenly burst into tears): "what's the matter?
I trust you are not permitting yourself to take the liberty of crying for me." "Indeed," sobbed Jane indignantly, "I know that I am a f--fool for my pains.

You have no heart." "You certainly are a f--fool, as you aptly express it," said Agatha, passing her arm round Jane, and disregarding an angry attempt to shake it off; "but if I had any heart it would be touched by this proof of your attachment." "I never said you had no heart," protested Jane; "but I hate when you speak like a book." "You hate when I speak like a book, do you?
My dear, silly old Jane! I shall miss you greatly." "Yes, I dare say," said Jane, with tearful sarcasm.

"At least my snoring will never keep you awake again." "You don't snore, Jane.