It Was Growing Late, And Though One

You’ve No More For Me Than I Have For You.” Considerably Disconcerted By This Direct Attack, She Stammered: “how Can You Say So? When I Am Sure I Have Always Been Most Sincerely Attached To You!” “you Deceive Yourself, Sister: Not To Me, But To My Purse!

There Is Nothing So Mortifying As To Fall In Love With Someone Who Does Not Share One's Sentiments.

Oh, 'tis Not My Qualities They Object To! 'tis My Lack Of Vice.

The More Enchanted The Idyll, Greater Must Be The Pain Of Its Ending.

My Dear Girl, Don't Talk Nonsense To Me! You're Lazy, That's All That's Wrong With You. Why Don't You Take Up Social Work?