"I've always been one of those men who...."

"Mr. Mortimer! With your permission we will take your positive
qualities, also, for granted. In fact, we will not discuss you at all.
You come to me with this absurd story...."

"Not absurd. Honest fact. I had it from my valet, who had it from her
maid, and, though I'm not a man who gossips with servants, I'm bound to
say...."

"Will you please tell me who is the girl my misguided son wishes to
marry?"

"I don't know that I'd call him misguided," said Mr. Mortimer, as one
desiring to be fair, "I think he's a right smart picker! She's such a
corking girl, you know. We were children together, and I've loved her
for years. Ten years at least. But you know how it is--somehow one
never seems to get in line for a proposal. I thought I saw an opening
in the summer of nineteen-twelve, but it blew over. I'm not one of
these smooth, dashing guys, you see, with a great line of talk. I'm
not...."

"If you will kindly," said Mrs. Hignett impatiently, "postpone this
essay in psycho-analysis to some future occasion I shall be greatly
obliged. I am waiting to hear the name of the girl my son wishes to
marry."

"Haven't I told you?" said Mr. Mortimer, surprised. "That's odd. I
haven't! It's funny how one doesn't do the things one thinks one does.