“I know why you want to wear the plum,” Marcelline said. “It’s ravishing. It’ll make Longmore swoon.”“It might make him do some things,” Sophy said. “But swooning isn’t one of them. He’s the sort of man who tells a girl he l-loves her—and then l-laughs. As thoughit’s a j-joke.”

“Go away,” he said. “Do you know you’ve almost no clothes on?” “Never mind. I need—” “Never mind? Listen to me, Miss Innocence. There are many things a man can ‘never mind.’ A nearly naked woman isn’t one of them.”

“I expected a good deal more from you," Marcelline said, "You bungled it.""Yes," he said. "What else could I do? I was asking the wrong woman to marry me.”

“Jessica, you are a pain in the arse, do you know that? If I were not so immensely fond of you, I should throw you out the window."She wrapped her arms about his waist and laid her head against his chest. "Not merely 'fond,' but 'immensely fond.' Oh Dain, I do believe I shall swoon.""Not now," he said crossly. "I haven't time to pick you up.”

“Oh, it's ridiculous. I ought to laugh. But I can't. You won't believe it.""Of course we will," Sophye said."He offered you a carte blanche," Leonie said."No, he asked me to marry him."There was a short stunned silence.Then, "I reckon he's in a marrying mood," Sophy said.”

“I'm in a mood to knock someone down, and you'll do very well.""Don't tell me," Longmore said. "The dressmaker doesn't want you, either. By gad, this isn't your day, is it? Not your week, rather.”

“Just listen,” she said. “You can’t kill him in cold blood.” “Whyever not?” Ye gods grant me patience. “Because he’ll be dead,” she said as patiently as she could, “and Lady Clara’s reputation will be stained forever. Do not, I pray you, do anything, Lord Longmore. Leave this to us.” “Us.” “My sisters and me.” “What do you propose? Dressing him to death? Tying him up and making him listen to fashion descriptions?”