“Bathsheba, fun is all very well, but don't go too far, or you may have cause to regret something."
She reddened. "I do that already," she said, quickly.
"What do you regret?"
"That my romance has come to an end." "All romances end at marriage."
"I wish you wouldn't talk like that. You grieve me to my soul by being smart at my expense."
"You are dull enough at mine. I believe you hate me."
"Not you—only your faults. I do hate them."”