And apologies, once postponed, become harder and harder to make, and finally impossible.

Oh, why was he so handsomely blond, so courteously aloof, so maddeningly boring with his talk about Europe and books and music and poetry and things that interested her not at all - and yet so desirable?

It had been so long since she had seen him and she had lived on memories until they were worn thin.

All she wanted was a breathing space in which to hurt.

I only know that I love you. That's your misfortune.

Sir,"she said,"you are no gentleman!" An apt observation,"he answered airily."And, you, Miss, are no lady.

The South produced statesmen and soldiers, planters and doctors, lawyers and poets, but certainly not engineers or mechanics. Let the Yankees adopt such low callings.