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In the least way it incited her to coolness and indifference. "Do look here," she remarked to Lola. "See what this man says: 'If you will only deign to grant me one half-hour," she repeated, with an imitation of languor. "The idea. Aren't men silly?" "He must have lots of money, the way he talks," observed Lola. "That's what they all say," said Carrie, innocently.
From the way she talks about him he must be getting on for a hundred, and he is provided with a widowed sister, a Mrs. Norton, whom he has dug up from some place in the country to act as chaperon for his ward. All other women he is supposed to detest, and would, if necessary, beat them off with a stick. Rue Chapeau de Marie Antoinette, Versailles, July 5th
Though Miss Nash doesn't insist on talking like a high-brow, indeed is picking up aviation technologies very quickly. She talks German like a native. Think Miss Nash is perhaps older than I am, perhaps couple of years, but doesn't make any difference. Reading a little German to-night, almost forgot what I learned of it in Plato.
About herself as an author she seems to have no reserve or secrets.... But, though she talks freely about herself and her works, she never introduces the subject, and never seems glad to continue it. She talks quite as well, and with quite as much interest, on everything else.
"It's just what money does, though. I know who they are, for I caught a glimpse of them as they sped past. It's money that talks with them; that is the only voice they hear. They will ride over the less fortunate, and crush them down as worms beneath their feet. They have been doing it for ages, and look upon it as their right.
Funny, ain't it? But he says that's the way it is, an' he sure knows." The two friends listened with breathless interest. "And what does Pete call him?" asked the doctor. "Pete calls him father, like Dad calls God. He talks to God, too, like Dad does. Do you reckon God would talk to God, mister?" With a cry the shepherd reeled. The doctor caught him. "Strong, Daniel, strong."
Young Edmondson and Flaxman exchanged a few words on Elsmere's lecture, and then the doctor said abruptly, 'I don't like his looks nor his voice. How long has he been hoarse like that? 'More or less for the last month. He is very much worried by it himself, and talks of clergyman's throat. He had a touch of it, it appears, once in the country.
But the head was pleased by Manuel's services, because Misery loves company: and the two used to have long friendly talks together when Manuel's services and Misery's work for that day were over. "And how came you, sir, to be thus housed in a trunkless head?" asked Manuel, one time.
"She did not talk much," said Ralph. "She talks when she has aught to say," went on More, "and otherwise is silent. It is a good rule, sir; I would I observed it myself." "Who is she?" asked Ralph. "She is the daughter of a friend I had, and she lives just now with my wife's sisters, Nan and Fan. She is often in town with one of them. I am astonished you have not met her before."
Unfortunately, one knows her too well. She is clever and agreeable, has all that knowledge of the world which makes conversation easy, and talks very well, with a happy command of language, which is too often used, I believe, to make black appear white. She has already almost persuaded me of her being warmly attached to her daughter, though I have been so long convinced to the contrary.
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