I'll say for the last time,--I hope,--that it's a darned crime, and we'll let it go at that." "Very well.

We will let it go at that." "Great Scot!" burst from his lips as he whirled in the fragile chair to face the women of the house.

"I just can't help feeling as I do about it.
I can't bear to think of Anne,--my pretty sister Anne,--married to that old rummy.

Why, she's fit to be the wife of a god.

She's the prettiest girl in New York and she'd be one of the best if she had half a chance.