Who's that Pokémon? -- Daisy Miller Flashcards
“Will you give me a lump of sugar?” he asked in a sharp, hard little voice—a voice immature and yet, somehow, not young. [CHARACTER] glanced at the small table near him, on which his coffee service rested, and saw that several morsels of sugar remained. “Yes, you may take one,” he answered; “but I don’t think sugar is good for little boys.”
Winterbourne
“I’m going up the Alps,” replied [CHARACTER]. “This is the way!” And he gave another little jump, scattering the pebbles about Winterbourne’s ears.
Randolph
Who is the young girl?
The young girl glanced over the front of her dress and smoothed out a knot or two of ribbon. Then she rested her eyes upon the prospect again. “Well, I guess you had better leave it somewhere,” she said after a moment.
Daisy
What is Daisy Millers real name?
“Her name is Daisy Miller!” cried the child. “But that isn’t her real name; that isn’t her name on her cards.”
“It’s a pity you haven’t got one of my cards!” said Miss Miller.
“Her real name is [BLANK],” the boy went on.
Annie P. Miller
Winterbourne reflected for an instant as lucidly as possible— “we” could only mean Miss Daisy Miller and himself. This program seemed almost too agreeable for credence; he felt as if he ought to kiss the young lady’s hand. Possibly he would have done so and quite spoiled the project, but at this moment another person, presumably [CHARACTER], appeared. A tall, handsome man, with superb whiskers, wearing a velvet morning coat and a brilliant watch chain, approached Miss Miller, looking sharply at her companion. “Oh, [CHARACTER]!” said Miss Miller with the friendliest accent.
Eugenio
“Oh, well, we’ll go some day,” said Miss Miller. And she
gave him a smile and turned away. She put up her parasol and
walked back to the inn beside Eugenio. [character] stood
looking after her; and as she moved away, drawing her muslin
furbelows over the gravel, said to himself that she had the
tournure of a princess.
Winterbourne
“And a courier?” said [CHARACTER]. “Oh yes, I have observed them. Seen them—heard them—and kept out of their
way.” Mrs. Costello was a widow with a fortune; a person of
much distinction, who frequently intimated that, if she were
not so dreadfully liable to sick headaches, she would probably
have left a deeper impress upon her time.
Mrs. Costello
“They are very common,” [CHARACTER] declared. “They
are the sort of Americans that one does one’s duty by not—not
accepting.”
“Ah, you don’t accept them?” said the young man.
“I can’t, my dear Frederick. I would if I could, but I can’t.”
Mrs. Costello
Who is “She”?
“She has that charming look that they all have,” his aunt resumed. “I can’t think where they pick it up; and she dresses in perfection—no, you don’t know how well she dresses. I can’t think where they get their taste.”
Daisy
Winterbourne listened with interest to these disclosures;
they helped him to make up his mind about [CHARACTER]. Evidently she was rather wild. “Well,” he said, “I am not a
courier, and yet she was very charming to me.”
“You had better have said at first,” said Mrs. Costello with
dignity, “that you had made her acquaintance.”
Daisy
