The pause is eloquent, and full of deep entreaty.
"Or no," supplies she calmly.

"True! You," with a half defiant, half saucy glance, "are beginning to learn that a guardian cannot control one altogether." "I don't think I ever controlled you, Perpetua." "N--o! Perhaps not.

But then you tried to.

That's worse." "Do you forbid me then to lay before you--this name--that I---- ?" "I have told you," says she, "that I can find a name for myself." "You forbid me to speak," says he slowly.
"_I_ forbid! A ward forbid her guardian! I should be afraid!" says she, with an extremely naughty little glance at him.
"You trifle with me," says the professor slowly, a little sternly, and with uncontrolled despair.

"I thought--I believed--I was _mad_ enough to imagine, from your manner to me that last night we met, that I was something more than a mere guardian to you." "More than _that_.