"What I want to say is this: Why not try to build up something?
You should not waste even a tenth part of your energies in this
destructive excitement."

"Such excitement will give us the energy to build."

"That is as much as to say, that you cannot light the house
unless you set fire to it."

Then there came another trouble. When Miss Gilby first came to
our house there was a great flutter, which afterwards calmed down
when they got used to her. Now the whole thing was stirred up
afresh. I had never bothered myself before as to whether Miss
Gilby was European or Indian, but I began to do so now. I said
to my husband: "We must get rid of Miss Gilby."

He kept silent.

I talked to him wildly, and he went away sad at heart.

After a fit of weeping, I felt in a more reasonable mood when we
met at night. "I cannot," my husband said, "look upon Miss Gilby
through a mist of abstraction, just because she is English.
Cannot you get over the barrier of her name after such a long
acquaintance? Cannot you realize that she loves you?"

I felt a little ashamed and replied with some sharpness: "Let her
remain. I am not over anxious to send her away." And Miss Gilby
remained.