"The honor and good name of a man you hate?" "Why not? She's a brute."!

"I hardly see Mona as the 'soul' of anything," the girl replied. "But have they made no sound? Have you heard nothing at all?" "And you've promised to try: I see. You didn't tell me that, either," Mrs. Gereth added as they went on. "But you're rascal enough for anything!" While Fleda was occupied in thinking in what terms she could explain why she had indeed been rascal enough for the reticence thus denounced, her companion broke out with an inquiry somewhat irrelevant and even in form somewhat profane. "Why the devil, at any rate, doesn't it come off?"

The door opened, and the smutty maid, edging in, announced "Mrs. Brigstock!" "I suppose he means them—in the first place, at least—to try to talk you over." "Do you really think so?" Fleda presently inquired. "I mean, does he, after the fact, as it were, accept it?"