"Impossible.

I'm dining out." "With whom ?" She had to think.

"With Lord Considine." "Oh my eye!" Scott exclaimed.
She looked at him gloomily.

"Is THAT sort of tone what makes you pay?
I think you might understand," she went on, "that if you're to sponge on me successfully you mustn't ruin me.

I must have SOME remote resemblance to a lady." "Yes?
But why must _I_ ?" Her exasperated silence was full of answers, of which however his inimitable manner took no account.