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"So am I," rejoined Maurice, promptly. "All the same, you can hardly expect me to give up to David the girl I love, and who loves me. But why does Mrs. Dallas support David's suit?" "Oh, oh," she breathed, "I didn't know you could talk like that, Elinor. It sounds like some beautiful book." "Upon my soul!" cried the sultana of the inflammable name. "You're a corker! Do you mean to say, Miss Pat, that this buccaneer is the lady from the rural districts you were spouting about?".
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Conrad
"It is strange that a lady's name should be thus introduced," said Jen, annoyed at the tone of the conversation. "Let us drop the subject. Another cigar, Maurice. David, the wine is with you. Dr. Etwald--" "You must be, if you know who killed Maurice, yet refuse to confess," retorted Jen, with some heat. "Will you tell me the truth? I ask you for the last time." "You can learn that only from the woman herself." When that awful word, the worst word that a woman can use to a man, left my lips, a flame shot up into his eyes that I thought would burn me up, but in a half second it was extinguished by the strangest thing in the world—for the situation—a perfect flood of mirth. He sat down in his chair and shook all over, with his head in his hands, until I saw tears creep through his fingers. I had calmed down now so suddenly that I was about to begin to cry in good earnest when he wiped his eyes and said with a low laugh in his throat—.
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