“But how can you?” asked Constance. Indeed, a note of weeping broke her voice for a moment as she burst out, “You know as well as I do that money was a loan!” “Loan!” “You yourself called it a loan!” “Euphuism. All we do is for your good. Still—” Then, with incredible and obviously deliberate stupidity, and a voice as flat as her own, he asked, “Who is the man?” Her spirit raged within her at the dumbness, the paralysis that had fallen upon her. "Fire!—murder—thieves!—I've got one of 'em!" "Come along," cried Jack. ‘Did you sigh and flutter your eyelashes?’ ‘Certainly I did. Ireton and his friends to taste it.
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