I will not listen to your verse on an empty stomach!" declared the Vicomte. "You have no soul," said Philippe sadly. "But I have a stomach, and it cries aloud for sustenance." "I weep for you," said Philip. "Why do I waste my poetic gems upon you?

This, said Damerel wrathfully, is the second time you have walked in just as I am about to propose to your sister!

Talking to you is like -- like talking to an eel!" "No, is it? I've never tried to talk to an eel. Isn't it as waste of time?" "Not such a waste of time as talking to you!

Don't you dare call me arrogant!If ever I had any at all-which I deny!- how much could I possibly have left after having been ridden over rough-shod by you and Thomas, do you imagine?

Sir Richard sighed. "Rid yourself of the notion that I cherish any villainous designs upon your person," he said. "I imagine I might well be your father. How old are you?" "I am turned seventeen." "Well, I am nearly thirty," said Sir Richard. Miss Creed worked this out. "You couldn't possibly be my father!" "I am far too drunk to solve arithmetical problems. Let it suffice that I have not the slightest intention of making love to you.

Oh, 'tis not my qualities they object to! 'Tis my lack of vice.

You are an atrocious person! Since the day I met you I have become steadily more depraved.