"Well, it isn't my fault, and you act exactly as if it was—yes, you do, mother! And you know Miss Plympton absolutely revels in being a martyr. I wish I'd eloped, the way Curtis begged me to! Trousseau! What do I care for a trousseau? I'm just doing it to please you and the aunts."
"Darling"
"I've explained to Miss Plympton till I'm hoarse that what I want this dress to look like is a novice's robes—oh, that reminds me! Mother!"
"Yes, dearie?"
"What did Mr. Leach say when you telephoned about that choir-boy?"
"I—I'll just slip down and call him up this minute."
"Mother! Oh, I'm so sick of everybody promising to do things, and then nothing gets done unless I attend to it."
"I'll call him up this minute, darling. I tried to get him this morning, but the line was busy, and then I had to see the florist"
