MISS REED: "Oh, DID you, indeed!" To Miss Spaulding, who bends an
astonished glance upon her from the piano: "The man in this book is
the most CONCEITED creature, Nettie. Play chords--something very
subdued--ah!"

MISS SPAULDING: "What are you talking about, Ethel?"

RANSOM: "That was at night; but the next day she came up smiling,
and said that if I didn't mind she would keep on--for amusement; she
wasn't a bit discouraged."

MISS REED: "Oh!--Go on, Nettie; don't let my outbursts interrupt
you."

RANSOM: "I used to fancy sometimes that she was a little sweet on
me."

MISS REED: "You wretch!--Oh, scales, Nettie! Play scales!"

MISS SPAULDING: "Ethel Reed, are you crazy?"

Ransom, after a thoughtful moment: "Well, so it went on for the next
seven or eight weeks. When we weren't sketching in the meadows, or
on the mountain-side, or in the old punt on the pond, we were walking
up and down the farmhouse piazza together. She used to read to me
when I was at work. She had a heavenly voice, Grinnidge."

MISS REED: "Oh, you silly, silly thing!--Really this book makes me
sick, Nettie."