Arthur Conan Doyle

“ She stared at him with a surprise which had eclipsed her anger, while she pulled on her gloves with little sharp twitches. This was a new Frank Crosse to her. As long as a woman gets on very well with a man, she is apt, at the back of her soul, to suspect him of weakness. It is only when she differs from him that she can see the other side, and it always comes as a surprise. ”

“ An armchair stood at each side of the empty fireplace, and an uncomfortable, old-fashioned, horsehair sofa lined the opposite wall. There were pink vases upon the mantelpiece, and a portrait of Garibaldi above it.
The lady sat down and took off her gloves. Frank stood by the window and smoked a cigarette. The waiter rattled and banged and jingled with the final effect of producing a tea-tray and a hot-water dish. ‘You’ll ring if you want me, sir,’ said he, and shut the door with ostentatious completeness.
‘Now we can talk,’ said Frank, throwing his cigarette into the fireplace. ”

“ I think on the whole that women’s ideas of men are unfair and severe. The reason is that the women who have met unpleasant men run about and make a noise, but the women who are happy just keep quiet and enjoy themselves. ”

“ I thought it was to last for ever.’
‘Now, do be sensible, Violet.’
‘Sensible! How I loathe that word! A man only uses it when he is going to do something cold-blooded and mean. It is always the beginning of the end.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I want you to be my own Frankie - just the same as before. Ah do, Franck - don’t leave me! You know I would give any of them up for you. And you have a good influence over me - you have really! You call’t think how hard I am with other people. Ask Charlie Scott. He will tell you. ”

“ I have a case full.’
‘They shall all follow the first.’
‘Well, then, I won’t smoke.’
‘I’ll see that you don’t.’
‘Well, what the better are you for that?’
‘Now, be nice.’
‘Go back to your chair and have some more tea.’
‘Oh, bother the tea!’
‘Well, I won’t speak to you unless you sit down and behave yourself.’
‘There now! Speak away.’
‘Look here, dear Violet, you must not talk about this any more. Some things are possible and some are impossible. This is absolutely, finally impossible. We can never go back upon the past. ”

“ I know that you can when you like. You will drive to Mariani’s, and you will find me at the door. We shall go up to our old private room, and we shall have tea together, and a dear old chat about all sorts of things. So come! But if you don’t, there is a train which leaves Waterloo at 6.10 and reaches Woking at 7. I will come by it and be just in time for dinner. What a joke it will be!
Good-bye, old boy! I hope your wife does not read your letters, or this will rather give her fits.
- Yours as ever, VIOLET WRIGHT.
At the first reading this letter filled him with anger. ”