You take too much upon yourself." "So said Lord Rotherby.

You seem to have something in common when all is said." She bit her lip in chagrin.

They paced in silence to the lawn's end, and turned again.

Then: "You treat me like a fool," she reproved him.
"How is that possible, when, already I think I love you." She started from him, and stared at him for a long moment.

"You insult me!" she cried angrily, conceiving that she understood his mind.