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"Not ten, only eight! He went away when I was seventeen," I answered with dignity, wishing I dared be snappy at him: though I never am. "That gives me the creeps," she remonstrated. "I don't like it. It sounds like funerals and ghosts——" Elinor smiled a wistful little puckered smile. "Perhaps I am rather lop-sided in my feelings," she confessed. "I always feel so dreadfully sorry for the wrong-doers, and the less they care the sorrier I am.".
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Conrad
There were a few feeble protests, but Mrs. Eitel bore them down, and the students trooped off upstairs to their lockers and the dressing room, well pleased to escape the prosaic end to their fun. "Because I marry to please myself, not you," said Isabella, sharply. "Oh, I know your thoughts, Dido; you would like me to marry David Sarby. The idea; as if he can compare with Maurice!" Elinor smiled and her shining eyes traveled down the wide dim corridor with its rows of battered gray lockers, past the confusion of chairs and easels that clustered around the big screen of the composition room, straight into the farthest nook of the great bare work rooms beyond, where an array of heroic-sized white casts loomed conspicuous in the cold north light above the clutter of easels, stools and drawing-boards that encompassed the silent, intent workers. "Yes, and a murderess!".
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