charming way. If you lived in London, where the whole system is one of
false good-fellowship, and you may know a man for twenty years without
finding out that he hates you like poison, you would soon have your eyes
opened. There we do unkind things in a kind way: we say bitter things
in a sweet voice: we always give our friends chloroform when we tear
them to pieces. But think of the other side of it! Think of the people
who do kind things in an unkind way---people whose touch hurts, whose
voices jar, whose tempers play them false, who wound and worry the
people they love in the very act of trying to conciliate them, and yet
who need affection as much as the rest of us. Crampton has an
abominable temper, I admit. He has no manners, no tact, no grace.
He'll never be able to gain anyone's affection unless they will take his
desire for it on trust. Is he to have none---not even pity---from his
own flesh and blood?

DOLLY (quite melted). Oh, how beautiful, Finch! How nice of you!

PHILIP (with conviction). Finch: this is eloquence---positive
eloquence.

DOLLY. Oh, mamma, let us give him another chance. Let us have him
to dinner.

MRS. CLANDON (unmoved). No, Dolly: I hardly got any lunch. My dear
Finch: there is not the least use in talking to me about Fergus. You
have never been married to him: I have.

McCOMAS (to Gloria). Miss Clandon: I have hitherto refrained from
appealing to you, because, if what Mr. Crampton told me to be true, you
have been more merciless even than your mother.