"You can but make the experiment, Robert. If she has a fancy for you--and, on my conscience, I believe she has or had--she will forgive much. But, my lad, you are laughing. Is it at me? You had better grin at your own perverseness. I see, however, you laugh at the wrong side of your mouth. You have as sour a look at this moment as one need wish to see."
"I have so quarrelled with myself, Yorke. I have so kicked against the pricks, and struggled in a strait waistcoat, and dislocated my wrists with wrenching them in handcuffs, and battered my hard head by driving it against a harder wall."

"You can but try, Robert. If she has a fancy for you, she will forgive much. But, my lad, you are laughing."
"I have quarrelled with myself, Yorke. I have battered my head by driving it against a wall."
