“«Pray let me hear then,» said Mrs. Touchett, «of the fruits of your penetration. If I can't speak to him, however, at least I can speak to Isabel.»
Her companion sounded at this the note of warning. «Don't be too quick with her. Don't inflame her imagination.» «I never did anything in life to any one's imagination.
But I'm always sure of her doing something—well, not of my kind.»
«No, you wouldn't like this,» Madame Merle observed without the point of interrogation.
«Why in the world should I, pray?”