"Now, tell me why they brought you here?" "I came to see you, dear mother!" answered Jack. . . She wanted to scream, but there was no one to scream for. “Why?” He inquired. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. So the talk went on, and presently they were criticising novelists, and certain daring essays of Wilkins got their due share of attention, and then they were discussing the future of the theatre. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done. I would do anything—I would give anything to make you mine.
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