"Why, of the whole wretched thing." "Why, of the whole wretched thing."!

"Oh, I mean for myself!" Fleda said impatiently. "Oh, I thought I remembered that at Poynton you had told me a day, and that it was near at hand."

"Well, then, that's all right," said Mrs. Gereth as if she had only wanted to feel that she had been irreproachably considerate. After this she was gentler still, but she had another point to clear up. "Why have you given, for a reply, your sister's address?" "Very true, you've done it all yourself." Fleda spoke gravely and gently, without a breath of coquetry. "But those are shades between which she's probably not obliged to distinguish. It's enough for her that we're singularly intimate." "He seemed very sad. He takes it very hard," Fleda added.