Sons and Lovers - Daimon Club

"Yes, you want to know, don't you?" Fanny mocked, hugely delighted.
"There's one from everybody--except Lady Clara--and two from some.
But I shan't tell you how many I put."
"Oh, I know, you're spooney," he said.
"There you ARE mistaken!" she cried, indignant. "I could
never be so soft." Her voice was strong and contralto.
"You always pretend to be such a hard-hearted hussy," he laughed.
"And you know you're as sentimental---"
"I'd rather be called sentimental than frozen meat,"
Fanny blurted. Paul knew she referred to Clara, and he smiled.
"Do you say such nasty things about me?" he laughed.
"No, my duck," the hunchback woman answered, lavishly tender.
She was thirty-nine. "No, my duck, because you don't think yourself
a fine figure in marble and us nothing but dirt. I'm as good as you,