"He is old enough to be your father."

"He is thirty-six, and I am twenty-four."

"Thirty-six!"

"There is the Peerage for you to look at. But, my dear Harry, do you not
know that you are perplexing me and yourself too, for nothing? I was
fool enough when I came here from Nice, after papa's death to let you
talk nonsense to me for a month or two."

"Did you or did you not swear that you loved me?"

"Oh, Mr. Clavering, I did not imagine that your strength would have
condescended to take such advantage over the weakness of a woman. I
remember no oaths of any kind, and what foolish assertions I may have
made, I am not going to repeat. It must have become manifest to you
during these two years that all that was a romance. If it be a pleasure
to you to look back to it, of that pleasure I cannot deprive you.
Perhaps I also may sometimes look back. But I shall never speak of that
time again; and you, if you are as noble as I take you to be, will not
speak of it either. I know you would not wish to injure me."

"I would wish to save you from the misery you are bringing on yourself."

"In that you must allow me to look after myself. Lord Ongar certainly
wants a wife, and I intend to be true to him, and useful."

"How about love?"