'And I never saw it.

Was it like ?' 'Thank you,' said Dick under his breath to the red-haired girl, and he removed himself swiftly.
'How that man hates me!' said the girl.

'And how he loves you, Maisie!' 'What nonsense?
I knew Dick's very fond of me, but he had his work to do, and I have mine.' 'Yes, he is fond of you, and I think he knows there is something in impressionism, after all.

Maisie, can't you see ?' 'See?
See what ?' 'Nothing; only, I know that if I could get any man to look at me as that man looks at you, I'd--I don't know what I'd do.

But he hates me.