"Sally, you come, as ever, as an angel of mercy. Our worthy Mrs.
Meecher means well, and I yield to no man in my respect for her innate
kindness of heart: but she errs in supposing that that thrice-damned
whelp of hers is a combination of sick-nurse, soothing medicine, and a
week at the seaside. She insisted on bringing him here. He was yapping
then, as he was yapping when, with womanly resource which I cannot
sufficiently praise, you decoyed him hence. And each yap went through me
like hammer-strokes on sheeted tin. Sally, you stand alone among
womankind. You shine like a good deed in a naughty world. When did you
get back?"

"I've only just arrived in my hired barouche from the pier."

"And you came to see your old friend without delay? I am grateful and
flattered. Sally, my dear."

"Of course I came to see you. Do you suppose that, when Mrs. Meecher
told me you were sick, I just said 'Is that so?' and went on talking
about the weather? Well, what do you mean by it? Frightening everybody.
Poor old darling, do you feel very bad?"

"One thousand individual mice are nibbling the base of my spine, and I
am conscious of a constant need of cooling refreshment. But what of
that? Your presence is a tonic. Tell me, how did our Sally enjoy foreign
travel?"

"Our Sally had the time of her life."

"Did you visit England?"