human
Pleasures are like poppies spread; You seize the flower--its bloom is shed.
gpt
It is the carriage returned, said Shirley;
human
Mr. Sympson and the ladies are returned, she said,
gpt
How you did start, and how your hand trembled, Shirley! said Henry, when the maid had closed the shutter and was gone.
human
But I know why--don't you, Mr. Moore? I know what papa intends. He is a little ugly man, that Sir Philip. I wish he had not come. I wish sisters and all of them had stayed at De Walden Hall to dine.--Shirley should once more have made tea for you and me, Mr. Moore, and we would have had a happy evening of it.
gpt
That was _your_ plan, was it, my boy?
human
Don't you approve it, sir?
gpt
I approve nothing utopian. Look Life in its iron face; stare Reality out of its brassy countenance. Make the tea, Henry; I shall be back in a minute.