'No!--Oh no!--Oh no, I think not!'

'But you seem uncertain. Do forgive me if I say that I'm sure you need a
change. Really, you know, you are _not_ looking quite the thing. Now, can't
I persuade you to join us at Lucerne? My husband would be so
pleased--delighted to talk with you about the state of Europe. Give us a
fortnight--do!'

'My dear Mrs. Weare, you are kindness itself! I am deeply grateful. I can't
easily express my sense of your most friendly thoughtfulness. But, the
truth is, I am half engaged to other friends. Indeed, I think I may almost
say that I have practically...yes, indeed, it amounts to that.'

He spoke in a thinly fluting voice, with a preciseness of enunciation akin
to the more feebly clerical, and with smiles which became almost lachrymose
in their expressiveness as he dropped from phrase to phrase of embarrassed
circumlocution. And his long bony hands writhed together till the knuckles
were white.

'Well, so long as you _are_ going away. I'm so afraid lest your
conscientiousness should go too far. You won't benefit anybody, you know,
by making yourself ill.'

'Obviously not!--Ha, ha!--I assure you that fact is patent to me. Health is
a primary consideration. Nothing more detrimental to one's usefulness than
an impaired... Oh, to be sure, to be sure!'

'There's the strain upon your sympathies. That must affect one's health,
quite apart from an unhealthy atmosphere.'