She bowed her head, clasping her hands tightly before her upon the arm of his chair, for her heart yearned towards him, yet could not reach him, and it made her throat ache with unhappiness to meet that look of his that rested on her face without seeing it.

Well, you have the right to make a sacrifice of yourself, but I'll be damned if I'll let you sacrifice me!

[He was aware] of the value of the word of praise dropped at exactly the right moment; and he would have thought himself extremely stupid to withhold what cost him so little and was productive of such desirable results.

I don't know what you may have seen fit to tell her, Venetia, but so far as I understand it you could think of nothing better to do than to beguile her with some farrago about wishing Damerel to strew rose-leaves for you to walk on!" Damerel, who had resumed his seat, had been staring moodily into the fire, but at these words he looked up quickly. "Rose-leaves?" His eyes went to Venetia's face, wickedly quizzing her. "But my dear girl, at this season?" "Be quiet, you wretch!" she said, blushing.

She succumbed to the eternal feminine passion for bargains.

The charm of your society, My Sparrow, lies in not knowing what will you say next - though one rapidly learns to fear the worst!

I do not want a boy. I only want Monseigneur!