“Léonie, you will do well to consider. You are not the first woman in my life."She smiled through her tears. "Monseigneur, I would so much rather be the last woman than the first,” she said.”

“His Grace was at her side, and lifted her down from the chair."My enfant," he said , "duchesses do not dance on chairs, nor do they call their brothers 'imbécile'."Léonie's twinkled irrepressibly."I do," she said firmly.”

“Well, I think I laid down my sunshade first,'said Mrs. Twining reflectively. 'Ah, that doesn't interest you. I told Finch that I wanted to tidy my hair (a euphemism for "powder my nose", of course), and would show myself out on to the terrace.''And you did in fact powder your nose, Mrs. Twining, at the mirror over the fireplace?''Most thoroughly,' she agreed.'How long did that take you?'She looked rather amused. 'When a woman powders her nose, Inspector, she loses count of time. My own estimate would be a moment or two; almost any man, I feel, would probably say, ages.''Were you as long, perhaps, as five minutes?''I hope not. Let us say three - without prejudice.”

“What, sir, would you think of a member of the Weaker Sex who assumed the guise of a man, and left the home of her natural protector by way of the window?""I should assume," replied Sir Richard, "that she had strong reasons for acting with such resolution.""She did not wish to marry me," said Mr. Griffin gloomily."Oh!" said Sir Richard."Well, I'm sure I can't see why she should be so set against me, but that's not it, sir. The thing is that here's my mother determined to find her, and to make her marry me, and so hush up the scandal. But I don't like it above half. If she dislikes the notion so much, I don't think I ought to marry her, do you?""Emphatically not!""I must say I am very glad to hear you say that, Sir Richard!" said Mr. Griffin, much cheered. "For you must know that my mother has been telling me ever since yesterday that I must marry her now, to save her name. But I think she would very likely make me uncomfortable, and nothing could make up for that, in my opinion.""A lady capable of escaping out of a window in the guise of a a man would quite certainly make you more than uncomfortable," said Sir Richard."Yes, though she's only a chit of a girl, you know. In fact, she is not yet out. I am very happy to have had the benefit of the opinion of a Man of the World. I feel that I can rely on your judgment.""On my judgment, you might, but in nothing else, I assure you," said Sir Richard. "You know nothing of me, after all. How do you know that I am not now concealing your cousin from you?""Ha-ha! Very good, upon my word! Very good, indeed!" said Mr. Griffin, saluting a jest of the first water.”

“She stretched out her hand, saying, “Vernon! My dear, what a delightful surprise!”“What’s surprising about it?” he enquired, lifting his black brows. “Didn’t you ask me to come?”The smile remained pinned to Lady Buxted’s lips, but she replied with more than a touch of acidity: “To be sure I did, but so many days ago that I supposed you had gone out of town!”“Oh, no!” he said, returning her smile with one of great sweetness.”

“Mr Merriot cocked an eyebrow at Kate, and said: - "Well, my dear, and did you kiss her good-night?"Miss Merriot kicked off her shoes, and replied in kind. "What, are you parted from the large gentleman already?"Mr Merriot looked into the fire, and a slow smile came, and the suspicion of a blush."Lord, child!" said Miss Merriot. "Are you for the mammoth? It's a most respectable gentleman, my dear."Mr Merriot raised his eyes. "I believe I would not choose to cross him," he remarked inconsequently. "But I would trust him."Miss Merriot began to laugh. "Be a man, my Peter, I implore you.""Alack!" sighed Mr Merriot, "I feel all a woman.”

“Were you locked in your room?" enquired Sir Richard."Oh no! I daresay I should have been if Aunt had guessed what I meant to do, but she would never think of such a thing.""Then--forgive my curiosity!--why did you climb out of the window?" asked Sir Richard."Oh, that was on account of Pug!" replied Pen sunnily."Pug?""Yes, a horrid little creature! He sleeps in a basket in the hall, and he always yaps if he thinks one is going out. That would have awakened Aunt Almeria. There was nothing else I could do."Sir Richard regarded her with a lurking smile. "Naturally not. Do you know, Pen, I owe you a debt of gratitude?""Oh!" she said again. "Do you mean that I don't behave as a delicately bred femaile should?""That is one way of putting it, certainly.""It is the way Aunt Almeria puts it.""She would, of course.""I am afraid," confessed Pen, "that I am not very well-behaved. Aunt says that I had a lamentable upbringing, because my father treated me as though I had been a boy. I ought to have been, you understand.""I cannot agree with you," said Sir Richard. "As a boy you would have been in no way remarkable; as a female, believe me, you are unique."She flushed to the roots of her hair. "I think that is a compliment.""It is," Sir Richard said, amused."Well, I wasn't sure, because I am not out yet, and I do not know any men except my uncle and Fred, and they don't pay compliments. That is to say, not like that.”