1 Good-by, my dear Mrs. Pontellier; good-by.
2 "No, I thank you, my dear sir," returned the Doctor.
3 Well, well; women are not all alike, my dear Pontellier.
4 "You were not so very far, my dear; I was watching you," he told her.
5 "Yes, dear," he answered, with a glance following a misty puff of smoke.
6 "The way to become rich is to make money, my dear Edna, not to save it," he said.
7 It seems to me, my dear child," said the Doctor at parting, holding her hand, "you seem to me to be in trouble.
8 She cried when he went away, calling him her dear, good friend, and she was quite certain she would grow lonely before very long and go to join him in New York.
9 Why, my dear, I should think you'd understand by this time that people don't do such things; we've got to observe les convenances if we ever expect to get on and keep up with the procession.