"I don't found my romantic hopes on a woman's sentiments," said Hans, perversely inclined to be the merrier when he was addressed with gravity. "I go to science and philosophy for my romance. Nature designed Mirah to fall in love with me. The amalgamation of races demands it--the mitigation of human ugliness demands it--the affinity of contrasts assures it. I am the utmost contrast to Mirah--a bleached Christian, who can't sing two notes in tune. Who has a chance against me?"
"I see now; it was all _persiflage_. You don't mean a word you say, Meyrick," said Deronda, laying his hand on Meyrick's shoulder, and speaking in a tone of cordial relief. "I was a wiseacre to answer you seriously."

"I don't found my romantic hopes on a woman's sentiments," said Hans. "I go to science and philosophy for my romance. Nature designed Mirah to fall in love with me. The amalgamation of races demands it."
"You don't mean a word you say, Meyrick," said Deronda, laying his hand on his friend's shoulder.
